Stinky and Fudd 01

Alan stood inside the patio doors with his son and watched Frances sunbathing by the pool. The high walls around the back yard cast stark shadows on the poolside and the sun’s light glinted off the water. The contrasts made it hard to watch for very long. “She’s a pretty girl,” Alan said. “There’ve been a lot of pretty girls. How is she different? You didn’t want to marry the others.”

The question took Stephen by surprise. He watched his fiancée for a moment while he thought about his answer. “We have so much in common that it seemed natural,” he said. “We have the same backgrounds and goals. We agree on the roles we want. We agree that we want a family.” Stephen watched his father’s brow furrow and was quick to add, “We want a family when it’s time. We both want to travel, too.”

Alan looked back at Frances and said, “We paid to bring her here, so we could get to know her. She’s hardly said a thing to me or Karen in two days.” He turned to walk away and had to step around Summer, who’d been listening to them talk.

Summer looked past her big brother and said, “Fudd’s fabulous fiancée flaunts a fine fanny.”

“You like it?” Stephen asked, and looked back at Frances. Her smooth skin gleamed under a film of suntan oil that highlighted her long legs and the curve of her pretty butt. To Stephen, she looked good enough to eat.

“Nah,” Summer said. “I’m just playin’ with words.” She wore a bikini almost as small as Frances’ and carried a towel over her arm.

Summer grew up trying to best her big brother at everything. Sometimes it worked. Usually it didn’t. He thought she might even try to beat him to the altar, but so far it didn’t look like it. There were always enough interested guys, but Summer refused to settle on one. She’d explained it as, “My life is changing too much.”

“I forget,” Stephen said. “Why do you call me Fudd?”

“Why? Oh Jeez, do I remember?” Summer asked. Her expression went blank for a moment before she said, “Oh, yeah. It’s because of those baby pictures Mom has. You look like Elmer Fudd.”

Stephen didn’t look like Elmer Fudd anymore. His eyes were still blue, but his hair was a mop of sandy curls, and he had a young man’s chiseled form, now softened a little by the demands of a sedentary job. Stephen shoved Summer’s shoulder and said, “You should knock it off,” he said, “Or I’ll go back to calling you Stinky.”

Summer laughed and looked back as she opened the patio door. “I’m going to get into girl talk with my future sister-in-law,” she said. “I bet I know some stories she’d like.”

Stephen wasn’t going to win this one. He went to the refrigerator, popped a can of beer, and watched through the kitchen window. Summer laid her towel beside Frances, sat down, and oiled her arms and shoulders. She tossed her honey-colored pony tail over her shoulder and stretched out on her back. Even Stephen had to admit that his stinky sister filled that bikini really well.

Frances turned her head and said something to Summer that Stephen couldn’t hear. She pushed herself up, tossed her towel over her shoulder, and headed for the patio door. Stephen sloshed his beer only a little when he ran to meet her.

“I thought you’d stay and talk to Summer for a while,” Stephen said and stopped to suck the foam that threatened to overflow the beer can.

“I’m toast,” Frances said, “And too hot to talk.” She watched Stephen then asked, “Can I have a little of that?”

Stephen gave Frances the can and leaned past her to slide the patio door shut. His dad was in the den watching a baseball game and his mom was reading the newspaper. He wrapped a big hand around Frances’ arm and said, “Yeah, I think you’re too hot for talk, too. Let’s go upstairs.”

Frances wiped her mouth with the back of her hand while Stephen took the can back. She might have protested, but Stephen turned her toward the stairs and pressed the cold can between her shoulders. She yelped, let the towel slip to the floor, and ran the stairs with Stephen close behind.

Their bedroom had been Stephen’s while he was in High School, but now it was furnished as a guest room. Frances turned around beside the bed, and Stephen handed her the beer before he closed the door behind them. The sunlight that filtered around the drawn curtains was the only light in the room. The air was cool, and for that instant, the hum of the air conditioner was the only sound.

Frances gulped the beer then said, “You should at least let me shower.” She belched, covered her mouth, and laughed in surprise.

“I think I want you like this,” Stephen said. “All greased up.” Frances’ dark hair was short, but long enough for Stephen to get a good grip and tip her head back. He leaned over her, inhaled her beer-scented breath, and tasted her beer-flavored lips. She pushed her arms over his shoulders and around his neck, and she rose in his arms.

Their kiss lasted only until Frances tipped the can and spilled cold beer down Stephen’s back. He twisted and complained, and while she said, “I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” he took the beer and set it on the bedside table.

Stephen faced Frances again and hooked his finger into the front of her bra. He tugged, and Frances lurched closer. He untied the knot between her breasts and pulled the bra open. It had covered tasty-looking pink nipples in creamy triangles of untanned flesh.

Frances’ breasts weren’t large, but they were round and soft. Stephen cupped her tits in his hands; she caught her breath and pushed into his hands. He let her slip between his fingers, except for those hardening nipples, which he pinched between his thumb and forefinger.

Stephen dropped to sit on the bed and surprised Frances by pulling her down between his knees. He leaned over her to kiss her face and her lips while she fumbled at his belt and opened his jeans. Stephen was already hard. His cock strained for her. He filled her hands, and then he filled her mouth.

Frances’ lips wrapped Stephen’s cock, and she took him over her tongue to the back of her mouth. His cock was warm and wet when she drew back again. She slipped her tongue around the sensitive edge of its head and kissed it. At first, Stephen stroked Frances’ shoulders and her back while she sucked him, but then he fell onto the bed and propped himself on his elbows to watch her work.

It only took Frances a few minutes to suck him to the brink of his orgasm. Stephen thought he’d explode. He groaned and pushed her away because it was all too soon. Frances squawked and laughed when he grasped her arms, pulled her over him, and rolled her on the bed. He pushed his hands into her bikini pantie and shoved it down her legs in one rough motion.

Frances tugged on Stephen’s tee shirt until he let her pull it over his head, then he pressed her into the mattress and said, “Sex has got to be the best way to spend a hot summer afternoon.”

He tasted the sun tan lotion on Frances’ neck and on her shoulders while she cradled his head in her arms. Her voice rasped in his ear, “Fuck me, Stevie,” she said. “Do me the way you like it most.”

Stephen liked to watch Frances. He liked the open-mouthed expressions that crossed her pretty face and the way her tits bobbed while he fucked her. He liked to feel her clutch at his arms and his shoulders and wrap him in her long legs.

Frances took his shaft in her hands again, but this time she guided it between her thighs to her bare pussy. She watched his face while she worked him into her, then released him with the fat head of his cock inside her.

Stephen pushed, and Frances arched her back under him. He pushed again, and she closed her thighs around his waist. Stephen pushed again and brought their bodies together. His cock filled her and pulsed inside her.

He couldn’t hold still even if Frances wanted him to. Stephen started slowly at first and watched her get more comfortable. He worked faster and watched her get more excited. In the end, he slammed their bodies together and watched her tits bounce. He watched her gasp for breath and felt her fingers dig into his shoulders.

If only he could have gone a little longer then maybe Frances would have peaked with him, but Stephen couldn’t hold out. He clenched his teeth to stifle the noise he was about to make, shoved his cock as far into Frances as he could reach, and groaned while his body clinched and pumped his essence into her.

Stephen fell away when he was empty, and they both struggled to breathe again. She was the first to recover. She kissed his face and his neck and laid her head on his shoulder. When Stephen could move again, he pushed Frances back to look at her, and she lifted her leg over his hip.

The smooth folds between Frances’ legs where wet with the rich mix of her juices and his cream. She ducked her head against his shoulder when he pushed one finger then two fingers into her, and he covered her bud with that slippery mix. Frances had been close to her climax, and she never came all the way down. Now she was ready to come.

Stephen cupped his hand over the soft flesh around Frances’ hardened bud, and he felt her body tense in his arms. Her breath came ragged and shallow. She dug her fingers into his arms while he ground her under his palm and swirled his fingers over her, and then she let go. He covered her mouth with his to muffle her scream, and he felt the spasms course through her body. She writhed, and she collapsed in his arms and pushed his hand away. “Sensitive,” she said.

* * * *

“I’m starting to think you don’t really like Frances,” Stephen said. Their conversation slowed after the hiking trail started climbing the talus slope, so he didn’t expect Summer to answer right away. His eyes were fixed on the back of her bare legs, and both of them put one foot ahead of the other.

Summer paused where the trail switched back, and she looked down at her brother. “I’m trying,” she said, “but she isn’t making it easy. She doesn’t talk much, and sometimes I don’t understand what she means.”

“Keep going,” Stephen said, “I need to get off these rocks and into some shade.”

“Pobrecito, Fudd,” Summer said. “You wanted to do this. A little time in Chicago, and now you can’t take the sunshine.”

“I don’t get out during the day all that much.” Stephen said. “It’s easy to go soft.” He was less than two years out of grad school and, as the junior architect in the company, there were a lot of demands on his time

Summer started up the trail again, and climbed a few more yards before she went on. “We talked a little at the ballgame last night. It was when we went to get beer. We talked about you, of all things, and I thought she said the sex was good.

“It seemed like an odd thing to say, but probably I just didn’t understand what she meant. What she actually said was, ‘The sex gets me where I need to go,’ or something like that. What the hell does that mean?”

Stephen didn’t know, and they kept climbing without talking. The trail followed the base of the cliff above the talus to reach a ridge top. He stopped there in the shade of the pine trees, took his hat off, and wiped sweat off his forehead.

Summer looked up the trail above them and asked, “Is there anyone coming behind us?”

Stephen had to fight back a little vertigo when he looked down the trail they just climbed. Three small figures moved up the slope below. “Yeah, but they’re just starting up,” he said.

“Good,” Summer said. “Don’t turn around. I’m going to get out of this bra before it kills me.”

Stephen found a quart of ice water in his pack and downed a few swallows before he turned around. He found Summer crouched over her backpack, stuffing her sweat-soaked sports bra into a side pocket.

She stood and took the water bottle he offered. Her shirt gaped open, and Stephen grinned at the view of his sister’s tits before he turned away again. “I’d soak you for that look on your face,” she said, “But I’m thirsty.”

Stephen waited for Summer to close her shirt and hoist her backpack. “Come on, Stinky,” he said and started up the trail again. At first, the trail sloped gently and it was wide enough to walk side-by-side, but they could see more narrow switchbacks ahead where it climbed another canyon wall.

“Why didn’t Frances come with us?” Summer asked. 

“Not her thing,” Stephen said. “Mom’s going to take her out this afternoon and get her a dress for tonight. She’ll look good for dinner at the club.”

“So Mom will get to talk to her,” Summer said. “But, you know? Baseball’s not her thing, and karate’s not her thing, and running’s not her thing. That’s all stuff you used to do for fun. What do you do now?”

Stephen didn’t answer right away. The trail narrowed and began its steep climb, so he let Summer take the lead before he answered, “Movies and sex, that’s what we do. Movies and sex. Let’s change the subject. Did you get the whole week off?”

“Yeah, I swapped some shifts,” Summer said, “So I’ll be closing every night next week. It sucks, and then my last semester starts a week later.”

“Your degree will be in PolySci?” Stephen asked.

“The extra semester gets me a double major,” Summer said. “PolySci and Econ.”

Summer stuck to small talk, and they watched the scenery. They didn’t sit down until they got to the top of the mountain, and then their tired legs made Stephen regret it.

Stephen and Summer dangled their feet over the edge of the cliff and ate a late lunch. They watched the city sprawling across the basin five thousand feet below them and the thunderstorms that built over the mountains in the west.

Stephen looked down at his sister’s bare thigh and said, “You’re burning,” and slapped his hand down on her reddened skin.

Summer flinched away. “Fudd, you ass!” she said. Stephen tried to jump up from the ledge, but his legs had already stiffened. The best he could do was roll away, and that didn’t get him out of Summer’s reach. She squeezed her water bottle into his face, and emptied it on his back.

Stephen was still a little wet when they boarded the tram for the bottom of the mountain. Most of the tourists on the ride oohed at the deep canyons and granite spines below the gondola, but some spent as much time peeking down Summer’s shirt.

“Come her Stinky,” Stephen said. He pulled Summer close, and they both turned to the window. He lowered his voice so only she could hear him, and he said, “You’re a tourist attraction.”

“I should charge,” Summer said. “Or I should have put that bra back on.”

Summer hadn’t mentioned Frances since Stephen changed the subject, but there was still something that bothered her. She faced the vast scene outside the window but leaned close and asked, “What’s her family like? I mean Frances’ family.”

Stephen clenched his jaw and relaxed it. “Are you just looking for things to hold against her?” he asked and searched Summer’s face before he decided to answer. “It’s just her mother and her half-sister. Her dad died from a heart attack a couple months before we met, and she doesn’t have anything to do with her two step-dads.”

“Her mother’s been married three times?” Summer asked.

“And divorced three times,” Stephen said.

“Oh Fudd, that’s nothing I’d hold against Frances, but I might hold it against you,” Summer said. “What did you mean when you told Dad that you had so much in common? That’s not even true!”

“I guess I felt like we had a lot in common,” Stephen said, and turned away from his sister.

Stephen got to his parents’ house in the heat of the afternoon before Frances was back from shopping. He showered, stretched on the bed for a nap, and didn’t wake until Frances bounced beside him. She pushed her lips under his jaw, sent a shiver down his back, and asked, “How was your hike?”

“It was great,” Stephen said, “And now my legs are sore.” He ran his hands down Frances’ back and over her hip. “You were a topic of conversation, you know.”

“What did Summer say?” Frances asked. She lifted her arms while Stephen pulled her shirt over her head, and she unhooked her bra while he answered.

Stephen glossed over the details. “She’s having a hard time getting to know you,” he said. He watched Frances drop her bra on the floor and straddle his hips before he asked, “How did it go with Mom?”

Frances bit her lip while she ran her fingers down Stephen’s bare chest, unbuckled his belt, and said, “I thought it would never end.” She laid his jeans open and tugged his cock out of his boxers. “You’ll like the dress, though.” She motioned with one hand to where it hung on the door. “I don’t think your mom liked it very much, but she bought it. It’s hot, and I got hot just looking at myself in it.”

Stephen laughed, and Frances squealed when he pulled her down beside him. He shoved his jeans and boxers down the rest of the way while she kicked her high heels off and tossed her shorts and her thong away.

Stephen laid back on the bed and groaned from the pain in his muscles. Frances pushed herself up on one hand and slipped the other hand around his hard-on. “If you’re so sore,” she said, “then let me do the work.”

Frances climbed over Stephen before he had a chance to answer. She arranged his cock under her and ground herself against him for a moment before he pulled her down to suck her. Frances’ tit was more than a mouthful but not a lot more. Her nipple was soft when he first pulled it through his lips and dragged it between his teeth, but it grew and hardened in his mouth.

“Stevie! My other girl is getting jealous,” Frances said, and moved to feed him her other tit. Stephen didn’t play favorites. When she moved, she also made it easier for him to reach the naked mound between her legs. She undulated over Stephen and pushed back against his touch.

Frances pushed herself up and away. She turned her back on Stephen, settled onto his shaft, and rocked herself forward and back. He could feel her warm wetness on his cock before she got up on her knees and guided its head between her thighs. Frances took him inside her when she settled down again, and the sensation from his penetration made Stephen groan and arch his back.

Stephen watched Frances in a dressing mirror at the foot of the bed. As she rocked on his cock she also swirled her fingers over and along her hood. He settled his hands on her hips and watched his glistening shaft where it disappeared into her. He pushed her buns apart, pressed his thumb against her asshole, and then into her.

Frances caught her breath and pitched forward. It seemed like only a few more seconds passed before Stephen heard her groan and catch her breath. He saw, more than he felt, Frances’ body pulse around his cock while she came.

Stephen slipped his thumb out of Frances’ ass and pushed both hands under her thighs. He didn’t want her to relax too much. She protested only a little when he lifted her and pulled her to his mouth. He tasted the musky juice in her slit and sucked it off her pussy lips, and he closed his mouth over her mound to tease her hard bud with his tongue.

Frances ducked her head between Stephen’s thighs, and her second orgasm wracked her body. He had to tighten an arm around her waist to keep her from jerking away.

Stephen lifted Frances after she relaxed, and he slipped out from under her. He ignored the pain in his legs, knelt between her knees, and pushed her thighs apart. Frances was still lost in euphoria, so it took her a moment to realize what Stephen was doing, and then she pushed her butt up. Her wet lips parted to frame Stephen’s target, and he thrust his cock into her.

Frances stifled herself in the blankets while Stephen fucked her. He supported himself on one hand, put his other hand on her shoulder to keep her from sliding away from him, and slapped his hips against her pretty ass each time he plunged into her.

Stephen gritted his teeth when he came. He pushed himself deep into Frances’ cunt and let himself go. He slammed himself into her again, and then again, and he pumped his essence deep inside her.

Stephen collapsed on the bed, pulled Frances close, and swept a lock of dark hair from the corner of her mouth. Frances seemed ready to say something when Karen called from the foot of the stairs. “We need to leave for the club in about an hour.”

“Oh God,” Frances said. “I’ve already spent too much time with your mom.”

Stephen pulled back, so he could focus on Frances’ face and said, “She’s too much sometimes, but I wish you’d try harder to get along.”

“I’m sorry,” Frances said and snuggled close. “But I’m marrying you, not your sister or your folks.”

“We’re kindof a package deal,” Stephen said.

* * * *

The rising sun was just breaking over the clubhouse, so Frances leaned back on the court-side bleacher, shielded her eyes, and asked, “Men don’t usually play tennis against women, do they?”

“Only in mixed doubles,” Stephen said, “But Summer is serious and I’m a hack. I played against her when she was still a teenager just to let her practice, but the last time I took a set she was sixteen and getting over the flu. I don’t have a chance.”

Hiking the mountain had been Stephen’s idea. He agreed to play one set against Summer to get her to hike with him, and now it felt like a bad idea.

“He’d have a better chance if he could figure out how to land his forehand,” Karen said, and Alan laughed. “Maybe if he didn’t fault on his serves so much, that would help, too,” she added.

Summer walked onto the court with her little white skirt bouncing around her thighs, which were still a little red from yesterday’s sunburn. Her pony tail was fastened high on the back of her head, and it swung behind her as she walked. She pounded a ball into the court, caught it, and then laughed at her brother. “You’re moving like an old man,” she said.

“I’m sore!” Stephen complained. “I have to warm up. Then I’ll be okay.” He stretched his legs to prove what he meant and winced.

“I’ll send you some soft lobs,” Summer said, “And we’ll see if you can chase them down.” They both left water bottles with Frances and took the court. Summer was true to her word. She started with soft lobs, and when he was getting to those she put more heat on the ball. When he started returning those she said, “Okay Fudd, you’re warm. Let’s go. I’ll even let you serve first.”

Summer knew her brother’s game. She played to his reckless forehand until she was up three games to one. That was when Stephen called his sister to the net and said, “I need water.”

They walked together to where they left their water bottles and found Frances talking with Karen. “Kids?” Frances asked, “I’m not planning kids. I’m not the nurturing type. You’ll probably have to get grandkids from Summer.”

Summer glanced at her brother and saw his face go red. She touched his arm with his water bottle to get his attention. He glanced at her then back to Frances. His jaw clenched and his eyes narrowed.

Stephen downed some water, splashed more on his face, and threw the bottle across the court. He put a big hand around Frances’ arm and pulled her up. “We need to talk,” he said, and walked her off the court.

“What are you saying?” Stephen asked. He backed Frances against the clubhouse wall and kept his voice low so his mom and dad wouldn’t hear. “We planned on kids. You’ve always told me we would, and that’s what I told Dad. Now you’re telling Mom something different.”

Frances pulled away from Stephen and rubbed her arm. “I don’t want your mom to get her hopes up,” she said. “I know you want kids, but if it ever happens then it won’t be soon.” She glanced to where Summer talked to Alan and Karen, and then when she looked back she touched Stephen’s chest. “Besides, if we have kids then I won’t have as much time for you.”

Stephen was still angry when he left Frances by the wall. He picked up his racket, swung at the air, and said, “Let’s finish this.”

He crouched to wait on Summer’s serve and when it went to his forehand he slammed it back, but this time it shot past Summer with enough top spin to pulled it down. The ball stayed in, as did his next serve, and the one after that. Stephen was up five games to four when Summer stopped and motioned him to the net. “I don’t know what went on with you and Frances,” she said, “But you should play angry more often. I need water.”

When they returned to play, Summer went to Stephen’s backhand. It worked to bring them into a five game tie, but that was as close as she got. Stephen sent a forehand smash past Summer and into the left corner to take his seventh game, and they met at the net while Alan and Karen clapped and whistled.

Summer extended a hand to her brother and said, “Good set.” The morning was humid and it had grown warm while they played. She—like her brother—was dripping with sweat.

Stephen laughed and took her hand. “I didn’t think you could get so hot just watching the ball go by,” he said. He tugged her closer and sniffed the scent that rose from her neck. He spoke quietly with his lips near her ear, and said, “Stinky.”

“Fudd you!” Summer said. She pulled her hand back and punched her brother’s arm, so Stephen was rubbing a knot out while they walked back to where Frances waited with Alan and Karen.

Summer dropped onto the bleacher to finish the last of her water and stretched her legs out in front of her. Frances sniffed at her and turned away, and Summer rolled her eyes.

“We were talking about a picnic.” Karen said. “What do you think?”

“Anything’s fine as long as I get fried chicken and potato salad,” Stephen said. 

“I’ll need ice cream,” Summer added. She set her empty water bottle down, picked up the hem of her skirt, and fanned it to cool herself. “And time to shower and change.”

Stephen stared at his sister’s legs—and at the bit of her damp, white shorts that showed each time she lifted the skirt—until Alan got his attention. He tossed his keys to Stephen and said, “We need to stop in the clubhouse. Would you start the car and cool it off. We’ll be there in a minute.”

Stephen walked to the car, and Summer and Frances trailed behind him. He could hear them talking, but he couldn’t understand what they were talking about until he heard Frances say, “Bitch!” She ran up beside him, tucked her hand around his arm, and when Stephen asked what that was about she said, “Never mind.”

It wasn’t until after Stephen was showered and Summer was there packing the picnic basket that Stephen was alone with his sister. “What happened with Frances?” he asked.

Summer was arranging things in the basket, so she could fit in a box of plastic forks. When she looked up she said, “I guess I pissed her off. I wanted to hear about your argument this morning. She didn’t tell me much, but then she said, ‘My mom’s always said that I could fix any relationship problem with a good blow job.’

“I guess I know what you’ll be getting tonight,” Summer said. “Any way, I asked her, ‘Wasn’t your mom divorced like three times? Shouldn’t you be getting your relationship advice from someone else?’ Then she called me a bitch.”

Stephen looked up when Frances came down the stairs with her head bent over her cell phone, and then he turned back to his sister. “I’m not very happy with Frances, and now I’m not very happy with you. You told me you wouldn’t hold her mother against her. I should have known better.”

Summer walked away when Frances squeezed herself against Stephen. “Do you guys have the whole afternoon planned already?” she asked.

“Afternoon and evening,” Stephen said. “Aunt Mae is opening a new show at a gallery up town, so after the picnic we’re going to the reception then taking her to dinner.” He searched Frances’ expression, then added, “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have told Summer about your mom.”

“That’s okay,” Frances said. “My mom isn’t perfect. Only your mom is perfect.” Her sarcastic tone made Stephen cringe.

Frances affected a cute pout and slipped her hand down to the front of Stephen’s pants. “Do we have to go to the reception and all?” she asked. “I’ve had too much of your family, and not enough of you.”

Stephen groaned and pushed Frances’ hand away. He wasn’t ready for her solution. “I brought you down here—and my folks paid your way—so you could get to know the family, and the family could get to know you. So, yeah. We have to go. We’ll have time later.”

Frances’ cute expression dissolved. “Maybe later I’ll be too tired,” she said. She turned without saying more and walked away.

If Frances was too tired when they got home, then Stephen couldn’t tell. She waited while he said goodnight to his folks then ran the stairs ahead of him. “Don’t go anywhere,” she said and dodged into the bathroom.

Stephen sat on the edge of the bed to wait and was blinded by the bathroom light when Frances opened the door. She turned the light off and when his eyes adjusted again he found her standing in front of him.

“Stevie,” Frances said, “You have to give me a chance to make things better.” She unbuttoned her blouse as she spoke, and then unhooked her bra and let if fall at her feet.

To Stephen, making things better didn’t start with sex, it started with the truth. Instead of complaining, he asked, “How could I say no?”

Frances unsnapped and unzipped her shorts, wiggled out of them, and pushed her thong down. She stepped close and first ran her fingers through Stephen’s hair, then cradled his head in her arms.

Stephen kissed the skin on Frances’ belly and her ribs while he ran his hands down her back and over the curve of her butt. He lifted his lips and pulled her down to get her tit in his mouth, and Frances murmured in his ear while he sucked her.

Frances pushed herself back until her tit escaped Stephen’s lips. She knelt between his legs, unbuttoned his shirt and ran her fingers over his chest and down his belly. She unbuckled his belt and opened his pants, and he lifted his butt to let her tug his pants and his boxers down.

Stephen was trained like Pavlov’s dogs, so Frances was greeted by his already-stiff cock. She wrapped it with her hands to kiss its sensitive curves, and Stephen brushed her hair back, so he could watch his shaft slip between her lips.

Frances took Stephen’s cock to the back of her mouth, and its thick shaft glistened when she backed up to kiss its head again and to tease its flared edge. She pumped Stephen with her hand, pushed her lips deep between his legs to kiss his balls, and laughed when a quavering sigh escaped him.

Stephen was confused—excited and confused—because this wasn’t what he wanted, but it felt so good. He caught his breath when Frances started pumping his cock with both hands. She held the head of his cock in her mouth and caressed it with her tongue. His cock burned and seemed to grow in her mouth. He could come—he was about to come—but that wouldn’t make everything good again. He didn’t want her to think that it might.

The frustration and anger that Stephen felt for most of the day boiled over. He pushed Frances’ hands away, and watched the curious expression on her face while his right hand slipped along her jaw to the back of her neck, and his left hand tightened on her hair.

Stephen held Frances’ head and slammed her mouth down on his cock. She pushed back, but he did it again and gagged her. Stephen fucked her pretty face while she tried to turn away or catch a breath, and then he groaned through his clenched teeth. Now he could come.

The first gush of Stephen’s hot cream choked Frances. The rest splattered on her cheek and down her neck while she coughed and sputtered.

Stephen pulled Frances up when he was done with her and rolled her naked body onto the bed behind him. He turned away from his fiancée and stared into the darkened room with his softening cock dangling between his legs, and he listened to Frances sobbing into her pillow.

Frances quieted then said, “This isn’t working, Stevie. I want to go home.”

Stephen found his cellphone among the clothes they’d discarded by the bed, and forty-five minutes later he’d traded her Sunday return ticket for a flight out in the morning.

* * * *

Stephen was driving back from the airport when his cellphone rang. He pressed the answer button on the steering wheel, the music cut out, and Summer said, “Fudd?”

“I’m in the car,” Stephen said. “What do you need?”

“I don’t think I should see you guys today,” Summer said. “I’m probably making things worse for Frances than they really are.”

“Come on over,” he said. “You can’t make things worse now. I just put Frances on a flight back to Chicago. She’s gone.”

“What?” Summer asked. “I’ll be right there.” Summer was already at the house when Stephen got back from the airport. She looked like she’d been ready for a run when she changed all her plans.

Alan and Karen had a lot of questions, and they talked through lunch. Stephen made up answers for as many questions as he could, but that wasn’t enough for Summer. She held her tongue until they were cleaning up, and then she pulled Stephen into the kitchen. She had an acid tone to her voice when she asked, “Wasn’t the blow job good enough?”

“It was the wrong thing at the wrong time,” Stephen said. He looked past Summer to where Alan and Karen planned their day and added, “And that’s really why she left. I guess telling the truth is something we still have to work out.”

“What?” Summer asked, loudly enough to make Karen look up. Summer lowered her voice and went on, “You did break up with her, didn’t you?”

Stephen shook his head. “I didn’t,” he said. “I think we can get past all this.”

“What’s wrong with you?” Summer asked and stamped her foot on the floor. “She’s not even the person you want to think she is. You could be making the worst choice you’ll ever make!

“She tells you exactly what you want to hear, and then she lays you so you don’t ask questions. Right? Every girl in the world knows that a guy’s brain cuts out when his dick takes over.”

Summer turned away, and Stephen caught her arm. “I know Frances a lot better than you do, Stinky.”

“I don’t think you’re paying attention to me,” Summer said and pushed her brother’s hand away. “You only know the Frances you want to know, and you aren’t being realistic.”

“I’m spitting mad, and I’m going to run now to blow off steam,” Summer said. She stopped and asked, “Why don’t you come with me? Or is that something else you quit because of Frances? We can keep it down to two miles if you want, and I’ll be easy on you.” 

Alan interrupted. “That sounds like a challenge,” he said. “Since Frances isn’t here, your mom and I are going car shopping. You can come along if you want.”

Stephen took Summer’s challenge instead. He pulled on the smelly clothes he wore to play tennis the day before, and he struggled to keep pace with his sister. Even if it was only a two-mile course—and a lot of that on a shaded path—he still trailed Summer back home and jogged the last block.

Summer doubled over in front of the house with her hands on her knees, and laughed at her brother as he plodded up the driveway. The heat wasn’t a problem until they stopped, and then, without the air moving around them, they were suddenly drenched in sweat.

Stephen pulled his shirt over his head and watched Summer do the same. Her knit bra had crescents of sweat-soaked fabric under her breasts, and her nipples pushed out against the cloth.

“I need water,” Summer said. She watched where her brother’s eyes went and did nothing to discourage him.

“I want to get in the pool,” Stephen said.

Summer sat down in a lounge near the water while Stephen pulled off his shoes and his socks and balanced on the edge of the pool. He extended his arms and fell back. The cool water closed over him and the sound of his impact roared in his ears, so he didn’t hear Summer squealing about the water he splashed over her.

Stephen stroked back toward Summer and found her wiping her legs with her sweaty shirt. He crossed his arms on the edge of the pool and used them to support his chin. “Didn’t that feel good?” he asked.

“Maybe if I’d been expecting it,” Summer said. She tossed the shirt aside, and when she sat back in the lounge, Stephen found himself looking up between her thigh and into her loose-fitting running shorts. 

Stephen looked away from the clear view of his sister’s pantie-clad pussy and ducked under the water. When he came up again, Summer was climbing off the lounge. “I brought my swimsuit,” she said. “I’ll be right back.”

Summer had her pony tail pinned up when she came back, and she wore the same little bikini she wore to sunbathe with Frances. “I brought you a towel,” she said. She laid two towels and a bottle of suntan lotion by the lounge and walked to the steps that led down into the shallow part of the pool.

Stephen was floating in the water with one eye open just enough to follow his sister around the pool. Her bikini top barely contained her breasts. The bottom was a teasing interruption between her sleek legs and the taught muscles that rippled in her belly and her back.

“Why didn’t you just dive in?” Stephen asked, as Summer slipped into the water.

She breast-stroked toward him with her hair above water and stood up beside him. “Because the bikini would probably come off if I dove in,” she said.

“And then I’d go blind,” Stephen said, and Summer splashed water over his face.

“Did Mom and Dad have anything planned for tonight?” Summer asked.

Stephen rubbed water out of his eyes and squinted at his sister. “I think they talked about dinner out and a movie.” He let his feet sink to the bottom and stood before he finished. “But, with Frances gone, that’ll probably change. I think they got tired of trying to entertain her.”

“Summer Fest Downtown is tonight,” Summer said. “Why don’t we go? You and me, I mean, without Mom and Dad. It’ll be fun: four stages, dancing, food trucks, street shows, and all the bars and taprooms will have specials.”

Stephen’s eyes traveled up from where they’d settled on his sister’s cleavage, and he found her smiling back. He was caught. “Sounds like fun,” he said, turned away, and started to climb out of the water.

Summer hooked her finger into the waistband of Stephen’s shorts as he boosted himself over the edge of the pool, and his shorts and underwear stayed behind. “Dammit,” he said. He dropped back into the water and thrashed around while he pulled them back up.

“You gotta be careful,” Summer said. “Elastic relaxes when it gets wet.” She watched Stephen for a clue that he knew that she’d pulled his shorts down, and didn’t see one. “And now I know more than I wanted to know,” she said. “Do you always trim your pubes?”

Stephen groaned at his sister, back-stroked to the steps, and held his shorts up while he climbed out of the water. He found the towel that Summer left by the lounge and was drying off when she pulled herself out of the water.

“So is that a yes, about the fest?” Summer asked, and started drying herself.

Stephen watched his sister settle back on the lounge and squeeze suntan lotion into her hand. “Why not?” he asked, but it was an answer, not really a question.

Summer spread the lotion over her shoulders and her chest, and then down over her soft tits, and under the edge of her bra. “I’ll need to go home after this and change,” she said, and studied her brother’s blank expression. “Come over to my place, and we’ll work out what’s next.”

Stephen stared until Summer broke his concentration. She pulled her bikini bra off her tits to bare her breasts. She showed him white skin and pink nipples. “Are you blind yet?” she asked.

“Stinky, what are you doing?” Stephen asked. Summer’s breasts were beautiful—full, round, and firm—and as awkward as it felt, Stephen had to look. “Two days ago you were going to soak me for grinning at your tits,” he said, “and now you’re showing off.”

“I’m getting your attention,” Summer said, and tugged the bikini back into place. “You’ve been gawking at my boobs, so it seemed like the way to do it. Do I have your attention now?”

Stephen spread his towel beside Summer’s lounge and sat down beside her. “You have my attention,” he said. A lot of his attention was on his sister’s legs, and the way she moved when she sat up to oil them.

“You have to break up with Frances,” Summer said. She handed the lotion to Stephen and added, “I’ll do your back when you’re ready.”

Stephen spread the lotion on his arms and chest while Summer watched his muscles move under his gleaming skin. “Why?” Stephen asked. “Even if I don’t really know her, I know her well enough to try again.”

“Then try again,” Summer said, “but break up and start over from scratch. Don’t even have sex with her until you know who she really is and what she really wants.”

Stephen spread the lotion on his belly and his legs and set it beside him. “But that’s the best part!” he said, turned over, and propped himself up on his elbows.

“See Fudd? You’re an idiot.” Summer said. She sat up on the edge of the lounge and picked up the lotion bottle. “You don’t marry for sex. Sex is free.”

Summer climbed off the lounge and knelt over her brother’s thighs. She warmed some lotion in her hands, leaned over him, and worked the lotion slowly over his back. “You’re still pretty-well toned,” Summer said. “Despite Frances, I think.”

Stephen took a deep breath and relaxed under Summer’s touch. When her hands reached his hips, Stephen said, “I’ll do your back if you want.”

Summer inserted her finger under the waist band of Stephen’s still-wet shorts, tugged up, and let them snap against his back. “Sounds good,” she said. Summer climbed off and stretched out on the lounge.

“You know,” Stephen said, “I’ve never found sex to be free. Well, not good sex, anyway.” He sat down on the lounge beside Summer and tugged at the bow that held her bra tied across her back. He pushed the strings aside and warmed lotion in his hands. “Good sex seems to need an investment.” 

Stephen started at the back of Summer’s neck. He smoothed the lotion across her shoulders. Her back felt supple and muscular, and her skin felt smooth. He didn’t want to stop when he reached the graceful curve of her hips. Summer seemed to be in no hurry—maybe even asleep—so he pushed her bikini bottom down enough to slip his hand into the top of her butt crack and over the firm curve of her buns.

Summer rocked back and forth, laughed, and said, “Dammit, Fudd. Get your hand out of my pants.”

They both heard the garage door rumble into action. “Mom and Dad are home,” Stephen said. He slapped his sister’s butt to make her squawk a protest, and he slipped off the lounge to sit on the towel beside her.

Summer reached behind her, tied her top on again, and sat up on the edge of the lounge. She looked over her shoulder to see if Karen and Alan were in sight then lifted her knee and dragged the crotch of her bikini to the side. “Look at this Fudd,” she said. “All us girls? We all have one, and that’s all you really need.”

Stephen gawked at his sister’s pussy. It was naked and smooth, and he had to tear his eyes away. “Mouth-watering,” he said, with only a little sarcasm in his voice. “You already had my attention, you know.”

“I know,” Summer said and let the bikini snap back in place. “That was for fun. I like the stupid look you get.” Karen passed the patio door and waved, so Summer stood and waved back. “I should go and get ready,” she said. “Don’t worry, I’m not going to wear a bikini tonight. Just a teeshirt and jeans. You’ll come over about three?”

* * * *

Summer’s idea of a teeshirt and jeans didn’t agree with Stephen’s. Anything she put into those jeans would make a bulge in her otherwise smooth presentation, so Stephen had a pocket in his cargo shorts dedicated to her apartment key, phone and ID. Her teeshirt hung on one shoulder and left the other bare, and her red bra showed through the shirt’s open knit. At least she wore practical shoes.

Summer went downtown without money or her credit card. Paying was Stephen’s job, so she stood beside him at the Greek food truck and tried to figure out what kind of souvlaki she wanted. He shelled out the money, and they leaned against a brick wall to eat. The heat of the day was fading and afternoon was turning to evening. Country music throbbed from a stage on a side street, and police on horseback guided their rides through the growing crowd.

“I need a beer,” Stephen said. He dropped the remains of his dinner into the trash and waited for Summer to finish.

“There’s a tap room across the street and around the corner,” Summer said. There were tap rooms around every corner, but she picked that one for a reason. The sidewalk all the way to the taproom was lined with vendors. They sold scarves, purses, jewelry and—it seemed—anything else they could put on a table or hang on a board.

Stephen bought his sister a bracelet at a stand outside the taproom, and then he bought an ale for each of them. They took their beers to a tall table by the window and talked about people they saw on the street. The sky darkened as they talked, until the scene was lit only by street lights and shop signs.

Summer slid off her chair in a moment when Stephen didn’t have anything to say, and she stood beside him. “I want to check my phone,” she said. Stephen moved his leg so she could reach his pocket, and when she lifted the phone out she asked, “Why so quiet all-of-a-sudden?”

Stephen motioned to the scene outside the window and said, “I was thinking that Frances would have fun here.”

“Are you just trying to get me mad?” Summer asked. She flipped through a couple screens on her phone and said, “Do you mean the Frances that doesn’t do anything but sex and movies, or is there some other Frances?”

“She’d like the shopping,” Stephen said, but then he shrugged and admitted, “For about ten minutes then she’d want to leave.” He stopped and watched guys in the room behind Summer and added, “Your butt is getting a lot of attention.”

“There’s nothing wrong with that,” Summer said. She waggled her phone between her thumb and forefinger while he slid his hand up the back of her leg. “I have a map of the festival,” she said. “There’s a hip-hop stage a couple blocks down. Let’s go there.”

Summer zipped the phone back into Stephen’s pocket while his hand lingered under the curve of her butt. He pulled her against him and squeezed her bun. Summer squealed and jumped away while the guys behind her laughed.

Stephen caught his sister’s wrist when she swung at him. He pulled her out the door and into the night. Stephen led Summer through the crowd past a mariachi band with a troupe of folkloric dancers. Their brightly colored skirts flew about them while they stamped and turned. They passed a stage where ballroom dancers lifted and swirled, and they weaved through the people who gathered to watch flamenco dancers on the sidewalk.

Summer was over being groped before they reached the stage. A small crowd jumped and wiggled in front of the band, and she dragged her brother into the fray. The band covered two songs back-to-back and Stephen danced with Summer until it was over. He pulled her to the bar beside the stage and said, “I want a drink. How about you?”

“A margarita?” Summer asked, and Stephen turned to get their drinks. He turned back with two margaritas, and he couldn’t find his sister. Stephen worked his way through the crowd to get closer to the dancers and found her dancing with a guy who didn’t look like he was in her league.

A girl in front of Stephen turned away from her friends and said, “You look like you lost your date.” She was a pretty girl, shorter than Summer, with a soft body and a wide smile framed in dark hair.

“For now, anyway,” Stephen said. He realized that Summer had spotted him, and she watched him ask, “Where’s your date?”

“I’m still shopping,” she said, stepped closer, and sipped her beer. “I’m Carmen. I don’t think I’ve seen you before.” They talked over the music until it stopped and by then Stephen was ready to ask Carmen to dance.

Summer’s partner followed her to the bar before she could get rid of him. Stephen handed her both of their drinks without saying a word. He turned to Carmen and said, “Let’s dance.” She gave her beer to one of her friends, and they left Summer with Carmen’s crowd.

Carmen liked to dance close and, when she brushed against him, Stephen noticed the way her boobs felt through her cowl-necked dress. She wasn’t wearing a bra, and her tits bounced and swayed as she danced. Stephen was thrilled.

Summer watched too, and she drank. Her margarita was gone when Stephen brought Carmen back to the bar. She took a sip from his margarita before she handed it to him, then she tucked her hand around his arm. “Come with me,” she said, and tugged him toward a row of portable toilets behind the stage.

Summer was mad, and Stephen was confused. “I didn’t have much choice,” Summer said. “That guy pulled me out there to dance, so I went along. What was your excuse?”

Stephen hesitated before he said, “You said this afternoon that every girl has one, and that’s all I need. Carmen seemed willing.”

Summer stopped and turned on her brother. “Was she mouth-watering, too?” she asked. Summer patted a pocket in his cargo shorts. “Is this empty?” She didn’t wait for him to answer. “Wait here,” she said and disappeared into one of the toilets.

A wad of red fabric showed in Summer’s hand when she came back. She knelt in front of Stephen and stuffed it into his pocket before he realized that it was her bra. Summer stood, adjusted her shirt, and dropped her hands so her brother could see.

Stephen went stupid. Summer’s breasts moved under her open-knit shirt, and her nipples showed clearly through it. “Stinky!” he said. “You know I can’t let you get a step away from me now, right?”

“That’s what I’m counting on,” Summer said and stepped close.

Stephen gulped down the last of his margarita, wrapped his hand around Summer’s arm and tugged her back toward the dancers. “Why?” he asked without explaining his question.

Summer stopped and made her brother look at her again. “I don’t know,” she said. “I’m trying to get you over one mistake, and trying to keep you from making another.” The light from the front of the stage lit her from the side in colors and stark contrasts that made her expression hard to understand. “And maybe I need your attention.”

Stephen kept his sister close and pulled her past the dancers to the food trucks and vendor’s stalls. They hopped from stage, to bar, to food truck for the rest of the night. Summer enjoyed all of her brother’s attention and never got out of his reach.

They were pressed together side-by-side on a bench when Summer found her phone in Stephen’s pocket and sent a message. He raised his eyebrows to ask, and she answered, “I told Mom that I’m not going to let you drive home. We’ve had too much to drink. We got here on the bus, we can get back to my place on the bus, and you’ll stay there.”

“I don’t feel all that buzzed,” Stephen said, but he thought about it a moment longer and admitted, “Maybe I am.”

Summer looked around to see if anyone was in earshot. She ran her hand down Stephen’s thigh and asked, “Have you ever wondered how it would feel if we had sex?”

“You have a dirty mind,” Stephen said and pushed his sister’s shoulder.

Summer looked away, and if the light on the street were better Stephen could have seen her blush, but being a little embarrassed didn’t stop her. When Summer turned back, she said, “No, for real. Do you think it would feel like regular sex?”

“I think it would be awkward,” Stephen said and shrugged. “But maybe not much more awkward than being flashed by my sister.” He slipped his arm around Summer’s waist and pulled her closer. “How long have you been wondering?”

“I got mad when you were dancing with that girl,” Summer said, “and that’s when I started thinking about it. It seems like it could be really good. I mean, we’re just made for each other, right?” She watched his reaction. “We should be a perfect fit, shouldn’t we?” She nudged her brother with her shoulder. “Why don’t we leave now?”

They found seats in the middle of the bus, and Stephen settled his arm around his sister’s shoulders. People got off in pairs and groups until they were nearly alone. That’s when Stephen said, “I can sleep on your couch tonight if you want, but I’d rather go to bed with you.”

Summer didn’t even pretend to be surprised. She said, “I hope there isn’t too much sleep in your plan.”

Stephen surrendered to a sudden urge. He bent over his sister, brushed her lips with his, and drew back to watch her response.

Summer laid her head back on his arm. Her eyelids relaxed, and her lips parted. Stephen bent over her again, and she met his tongue with hers. He lifted her head in the crook of his arm, and she clutched at his shirt to pull him close. They were hungry. Their mouths were warm and eager, and Summer’s breath was ragged on Stephen’s cheek.

They broke their kiss when the bus brakes squealed. Summer looked around while a couple climbed out. “Only two more stops,” she said and focused again on her brother. “Did that feel awkward?” she asked.

“It feels awkward, but not the way I thought it would,” Stephen said. He illustrated what he meant by shifting his weight and adjusting his cock, and Summer laughed at his explanation. The bus accelerated again, and he said. “I liked the way you smell, and now I like the way you taste.”

“Not so stinky anymore?” Summer asked. She slid her hand over Stephen’s thigh and across the front of his shorts. “I didn’t get such a great look at you in the pool this afternoon, like I pretended.” Summer satisfied some of her curiosity, but she pulled her hand back when the bus squealed to a stop again.

The doors closed, and the bus rumbled into motion again. “Next stop,” Summer said and reached up to signal the driver.

It was a short walk across a parking lot to Summer’s apartment. Stephen found her key in his pocket while she chatted with her neighbor. “We had a great time,” she said. He opened the door and heard, “The music was good, the food was good, and we had a little too much to drink.” He flicked on the lights by the sofa and in the kitchen, and he unloaded his pockets onto Summer’s dining table.

Stephen heard, “The festival is going on tomorrow, too. You should find some friends and go,” but that was the last that he heard of their conversation. He walked through Summer’s bedroom, past her unkempt bed, and into the bathroom to pee.

Summer closed the front door and threw the bolt, then stroked her finger over Stephen’s back while he zipped his shorts. “I didn’t think she was ever going to stop talking,” Summer said.

Stephen stepped back and let Summer have the toilet. She unzipped her jeans, pushed her jeans and her lace panties down her thighs and sat. She grinned at the curious look on her brother’s face, straightened her back and pushed her knees apart.

To Stephen there was something fascinating about the stream that splashed into the toilet from between his sister’s legs. He watched until Summer said, “Get out of here!” and pushed him toward the door.

Stephen dropped onto the couch, put his hands behind his head and studied the patterns of light and shadow on the ceiling. When Summer came out of the bathroom she wore just her teeshirt and those lace panties. She’d left her jeans behind.

Summer climbed over Stephen to straddle his lap, kissed his lips, and sat back to toss her pony tail behind her. Stephen had watched Summer’s tits long enough. He slipped his hands up under her shirt, and Summer caught her breath. His fingers slipped around both of her breasts, and he held her in his hands.

“You have great tits,” Stephen said. “They feel even better than they look.”

Summer put her hands over her brother’s hands and leaned into his touch. “This all feels really good,” she said, “but I think Mom and Dad would be upset with us.”

“That’s a conversation I don’t want to have,” Stephen said. He tugged Summer’s nipples between his thumb and the side of his forefinger, and when he let them go they still poked out against her shirt. He stroked his hands down her sides, settled them on her hips, and pushed her back a little. “You already have me stiff,” he said.

“Should I be sorry?” Summer asked. She lifted herself off her brother’s lap and sat down close beside him. Stephen started to open his shorts, and Summer pushed his hands away to do the work herself. She reached into his boxers, and she didn’t look up until she had his throbbing cock in hand.

Summer pushed herself up, and Stephen asked, “Where are you going?”

“Right here,” Summer said. She curled on the cushion, laid across her brother’s lap, and studied the veins that bulged along the length of his shaft. Summer ran her fingertips over its smooth head. She kissed it, and she slipped her tongue around its sensitive edge.

Summer looked up at Stephen to make sure he was watching, and then she took him in her mouth. He felt her lips slip around the head and down his shaft. Her tongue slid around it’s smooth curves, and it slipped over her tongue.

Stephen couldn’t watch very long. He laid his head back on the couch and tried to catch his breath. Summer wrapped his shaft in her hand and pumped him. She sucked him and kissed him, and she took him to the back of her mouth again.

Summer laughed at her brother’s excitement. He pitched and writhed under her, and she started over again.

Stephen pushed his hand into his sister’s panties and, when he reached between her legs, she lifted her knee and rested it on his arm. He slipped his fingers into her, cupped her soft mound under his palm, and ground against her.

Summer let Stephen’s cock slip out of her mouth just long enough to catch her breath, and she pushed back against his hand. His fingers were wet with her juice when he pulled his hand out of her panties. He sniffed her musky scent and sucked her off his fingers, and he realized almost too late that he was about to come in her mouth.

“Not yet!” Stephen said. He pushed Summer back and lifted her to sit beside him.

Summer was confused. “I thought I about had you.” she said. “Isn’t that what you want?”

“Yeah,” Stephen said, and then he got confused, “I mean no. I mean, I want it inside you.”

“Then let’s do it in bed,” Summer said and climbed off the couch. Stephen held onto his shorts to keep them on while she dragged him to his feet. She pulled him to her room and left him beside the bed while she sat and watched.

Light from the kitchen spilled through the door, and Stephen stood in front of his sister, half in shadow and half in light. He kicked off his shoes, dropped his shorts, and his boxers. Summer was still fascinated. She wrapped his cock in her hand, tickled his balls with her fingertips, and talked to herself while he peeled his shirt over his head.

Stephen watched Summer, and when she looked up, she said, “You have a perfect dick. Perfect for me, anyway.”

“I’m glad you like it,” he said. Stephen pulled up on Summer’s shirt and tugged it over his head. He tucked his hand under her pony tail, and he bent to kiss her. She lifted her mouth to him, and he pushed her onto her back to climb over her. Their lips locked and their tongues tangled, soft and wet. He had her breast in his hands, and she had his cock in hers.

Summer pushed her brother, laughed, and rolled away. Stephen caught her. He held her belly-down and kissed her neck and her ears while he pulled her lace panties down, and she kicked them off.

Summer’s pussy was barely visible by the shadowy light from the kitchen. Stephen touched her, caressed her firm buns, and tickled the dark star of her anus. That made her gasp and flinch, but then she pushed back against his touch. He pushed one finger, and then two fingers into her, and his touch followed the soft lips to her clit.