A Picture Is Worth 1000 Words Ch. 03

"Oh, guess I should warn you. My period will start this week, on Wednesday, till ... Sunday."

"Oh, of course," I replied, thinking that I could have thought of that.

But she had also been thinking about our doing it. Had she also been wondering about how often? She snorted and added:

"Good thing that I also like to do that so much; you won't be deprived."

"Hmm? Thanks. "Deprived," depraved, that was the word that should have occurred to me."

"Why?"

"I was wondering how often we would."

"Mmmm! As often as we can, well, as often as we want. Hm-hmm! And I sure will want to on Sunday or Monday."

"Both depraved?"

"Just a little."

We exchanged wry smiles and drank to that, and were silent again. After a couple of sips of beer, I asked:

"When are they leaving for Europe, probably will call us again."

"Yeah. Tuesday or Wednesday. Yeah, Wednesday morning. Probably call Tuesday evening, when they know we'll both be home."

We were silent again, and finished our beers. Depraved, I was wondering again: would we want to do as much as possible Tuesday evening in anticipation of not being able to, while she had her period? If we did, a call from out parents was the last thing we needed. Could we call them to get that out of the way? Was their New York hotel on the itinerary they had left with us? Was my "just a little" depraved sister having the same thought? I could check the itinerary before I asked her, suggesting that I was having such thoughts?

I turned over with my cock between my thighs, and then she did, giving me a smile and remarking:

"Easier this time."

"Um-hmm. Just thinking about it isn't a problem after that."

"No, should last us till we go to bed."

I nodded, thinking that she was just a little depraved, if she could suggest that. We lay there, the sun warming our backs and bare asses. Did she have another suggestion of what she would like to do – in bed, in our parents' double bed? We were depraved, deciding to sleep together in their bed for the coming weeks. And when she had her period? Well, she had told me what she was going to do, but that aroused her too. Maybe she would think of that and not be so eager to suck my cock. Fair enough; if she couldn't, I shouldn't expect her to want to. But then, Sunday night or Monday?! Try to do everything we hadn't for a few days?! Yeah, I could really even think about that without my cock moving.

When we had had enough sun, we slipped back into the house, agreeing to have another beer and think about dinner. With our beers, we looked at Mom's menus for us. Mom's menus for us planned real meals for the weekends, but she had stocked the freezer with lots of TV dinners for weekday nights. She had even prepared shopping lists for later. Vicky suggested that we could cook, when she had a her period, and that we just have TV dinners. We agreed to share a third one, and found what we liked and could share.

When she turned on the oven, it occurred to me that she was suggesting that we not waste time with cooking that evening, that she preferred for us to have more to do to past the time, when she had her period. So, what did she want to do, if we didn't waste time cooking now? I was leaning against the counter, feeling that my cock was beginning to listen again, probably also because it was nice to see her bending over. Hmm? It had never occurred to me that one could see a girl's pussy between her thighs when she leaned down, like Vicky was, with her ass to me.

Nice round ass. Why hadn't I noticed that and her nice breasts when I was fourteen or fifteen? If I had, for sure, I would have been like those other younger brothers, trying to see her naked.

"Nice ass," I murmured.

She glanced back and gave me a smile, and closed the oven door. She set the kitchen timer and stood up and turned to me with a grin, glancing at my not so small cock, and replied:

"Wished you'd seen it before?"

"Exactly what I was thinking, and that I should have wanted to see your boobs when they started to be more interesting."

"Like those girls' younger brothers?"

"Now I don't just have to peek, and they probably never got to see them the way I can."

"Hm-hmm! Not just see me."

"I bet they never got to see their pussies between their thighs."

"You did?! Hm-hmm! Didn't know one could."

"Can see it better than from the front, mostly hidden by your hair."

"Oh, like that, pussy lips?"

"They would have come in their pants if they had seen that."

"Hm-hm-hmm! I guess you wouldn't now; besides, you don't have any pants.

I glanced down and replied with a chuckle:

"Nope. And I already have."

Mmmm! Don't have to tell me."

We raised our beers, grinning, and drank. Then I was surprised, when she stepped closer and turned her back to me, leaning against me and rocking her hips. My cock thought that was nice. I did too, of course, and she did. She chuckled and pulled the cheek of her ass aside. I had to pass my beer to my other hand in front of her. Then I could help her spread her cheeks and let it press between them. She tightened her ass, squeezing it, and chuckled. When I passed my beer back to my other hand, she put my free hand on her breast. I nodded and fondled it.

The other one too," she murmured and moved my hand across to it, my arm closer around her. She nodded with a hum, and we both drank. I fondled, and she rubbed herself against me, the effect not lost for my cock.

"What do you want to do?" she murmured.

"When? You said we would wait till we were in bed."

"Then? Now?"

"Just enjoy holding you like this."

"And then?"

"Anything you want."

"Mmmm! Have to think about that. And now?"

"Hmm? Have to think about that, too."

"Have to wait for the oven to heat up and then about twenty minutes to cook."

"What's that have to do with it?" I asked, very superfluously, since I knew that the oven would turn off when it reached the temperature. We had all the time in the world.

"Lots of time," she replied.

"To do what?"

"Hmm! You're not that innocent any more, playing dense."

"Yeah, but only because you'd said we'd wait till bed time, after dinner."

"I hadn't known we'd have to wait for the oven to heat up."

"Hm-hmm, but you had decided we could have TV dinners."

"Um-hmm!" she agreed cheerfully, and had a good drink of her beer.

I took an equally good drink of mine. She took another one of hers, then hummed, rubbing on me again, and said:

"If you finished your beer, you could hold me somewhere else."

I wasn't playing so dense as to ask what she meant. I finished my beer, burping, and she finished hers. We both reached back and put them on the counter. I squeezed her breast, and my other hand slid down her flat tummy. She nodded with hum and murmured:

"I thought you would understand."

"Just playing dense," I replied, and my fingers slid down on her nice public hair, enjoying scratching around in them and that they covered a nice round mound. The skinny models in the bathing suit photos it the paper hadn't looked like theirs were like that. She rocked her hips up with another hum and murmured:

"Not just there."

My fingers had just been waiting for encouragement. I hadn't yet rubbed her little bulge, but she had told me what she did. I did, and she moaned, moving against me like a cat rubbing itself on something. My cock liked that, and she liked feeling that it did, purring.

Her little bulge was slipping back and forth under my fingers. I recognized that the firmer little pink pearl was only the visible end of a now firm little shaft, that my fingers were making it spring back and forth under my fingers under the hood over it that I had seen and my fingers were rubbing.

Vicky was moaning. She had asked for this! My cock wasn't moaning, but it would have been, if it could have, throbbing against her. She pushed my hand down, pressing my fingers between her open pussy lips, down on her opening, wet opening, and her hips rocked up, rubbing it against my fingers. Did she want me to put one, two, three, in it? The tip of my middle finger probed. She moaned and nodded, but then murmured:

"If you can see it from behind."

She almost tore herself out of the clasp of my arms and leaned down, her hands reaching out and finding the kitchen table. She stepped away from me, dropping her head and shoulders on the table, rocking her hips.

Oh, I could see it, her pussy. Not just her pussy lips, now slick, moist pink between them, and my cock was bobbing, just wanting to get between them! I grasped it and stepped forward. It slid up between them. She groaned, rocking her hips, groaning again when we found the mouth of her vagina, and then we both groaned, as my cock plunged into it, my hips slapping up against her ass.

For a moment, I held still, feeling my cock throb in the grip of her pussy, but then I had to fuck. I remembered where my hand had been and reached around her hip and found the place again. She responded with pulsing moan. My other hand found her breast. I wanted to rub my fingers on her aroused nipple, but I had to grasp her breast to have something to hang on to, as I pumped my cock in her pussy.

Did we have to do this? We did. She had wanted it, was wanting it, and I was too; wanting to fuck, having to fuck! And she was more than moaning, as my fingers rubbed there. She liked that so much, where she liked my to lick! Getting it both ways, my giving it to her both ways! And her pussy clutching, giving it to my cock, as it plunged in and out her pussy, my hips clapping against her ass!

Fucking like I had once see a stallion fuck a mare. What a cock he had had! But mine was what I had, and it was as big as her tight pussy needed. Did mares' pussies squeeze those stallions' so thick and long cocks like hers was squeezing mine? Did mares have anything like what my fingers were rubbing?

Fuck! Suddenly the kitchen timer rang. It was like a catalyst; we came. I spurted deep in her pussy, and her pussy spurted against my tight sack. So much for waiting until we were in bed, I thought, as my hand slid up and held her other breast, feeling her pussy clutch my cock again.

When she raised her head, I helped her stand up. My cock slipped out, and I heard the sound of her dripping on the floor. She held her hands over mine on her breasts and said:

"If Mom knew what a good idea heating up TV dinners could be."

"Um-hmm, just the nicest way to wait for the oven to heat up."

"Mine or the stove's?"

"Hm-hmm! Yours sure cooked my cock."

We chuckled, and she stepped out of my grasp and got the moist dishcloth and wipe her pussy. She smirked and tossed it in the direction of my cock. I caught it and wiped my cock and balls and then the floor, while she put the TV dinners in the stove. I rinsed the dishcloth, and we set the table and got two more beers.

With a grin, she moved to suggest we return to how we had been standing before. I reached around her and held her far breast, and we drank. She chuckled and said:

"Well, we figured out what to do now."

"Um-hmm; going to make TV dinners more enjoyable."

"Hm-hmm! I was thinking we could take showers, while we waited for the oven to heat up."

"Our shower," I corrected her.

"Mmmm, maybe time for a quick one and this."

"If we don't have to spend time deciding what we want to do."

"Hm-hmm! We can decide that during the shower."

"As long as we don't argue about it."

"I don't think we will."

I squeezed her breast and fondled her nipple. She purred, rubbing her ass and back on me, and then asked:

"So what are we going to do after dinner?"

"Anything we haven't done already. You have all the good ideas."

"Hmm! About time you had some."

It was obvious that we were just filling the time until the timer rang again. I squeezed her breast again and then let my hand drop and suggested:

"We could start all over, you know, all our clothes on – your bra, too – and pretend it was a date. We had only kissed before, but when you said your parents weren't home, we're sitting on the sofa – no towel, of course – and then really start to make out. You let me put my hand on your breast for the first time ..."

Why you just took it away," she interrupted me.

We both took a sip of beer, and I continued:

"Yeah, but just on your blouse and the kind of bra that doesn't let me feel your nipple."

"Hm-hmm! I've got one. Mom bought it."

"But I guess your nipple does pop out, that you're more aroused than I realize. You don't stop me from getting my hand inside your blouse, but don't want to let my fingers more than touch your skin above the bra. But then my thumb slips under it, and you let me push it far enough to rub the goose bumps around your nipple."

"Hmm! Thought that was how your first time would start?"

"Never thought that far, well, kind of skip this part."

"Of course. Guys don't need so long. I wouldn't have, starting with imagining his rubbing my nipples."

"Rubbing them yourself?"

"Um-hmm. Don't think we're going to do this, but then what happens?"

"Yeah, well, then I'm surprised that you stop objecting to my doing more. Yeah, your tongue is back in my mouth, doing more than before, if possible. So, I guess I'd have to shove your bra strap off your shoulder, and you let me. You're really going to let me hold your bare breast! Worse, better, you moan, when I do, pressing it into my hand.

"You can hold it again."

I do, and she takes a deep breath, pressing her breast in my hand. We chuckle and have another sip of beer, and I continue:

"Yeah, well, your blouse is then unbuttoned, and you're leaning forward, inviting my other hand to slide around and unhook your bra."

"Bet you have trouble doing that, the first time."

"Hm-hmm! Probably. Maybe I can practice a little before our showers."

"Remind me, before I hurry to get it off."

"So then you're half naked. Do I suck them, or do you do anything?"

"Both; my hand is on your thigh, sliding up. Wow! It's so big and stiff in your pants."

"And twitching."

"Um-hmm, and I am shocked by what I'm doing, but I can't help wanting to hold it, afraid of what could happen, if I do."

"But you do."

"Um-hmm, afraid that you'll think it's an invitation for you to get your hands somewhere else."

"It would be! And I would be scared to, but when you keep holding it, ... Yeah, you don't want keep holding my zipper too, and massage it to the side, just my chinos and shorts between your hand and my stiff cock. Boxer short, thinner than my jockeys."

"And now I can feel it better, feel the groove around it."

"If you want to do that, you must want me to do more."

"Shocked that I do, but I do."

"Are you wearing a skirt or pants?"

"Hm-hmm! Short shorts! Wanting you to hold my thigh, wanting to feel your fingers down between them, wishing they were loose enough so that your fingers could creep up inside them."

"Girls ought to tell guys things like that."

"And admit that they want to be fucked? Nice girls don't admit that."

"But they want to?"

"Didn't I?"

"My sister is a nice girl?"

"She used to be, anyway. So what happens?"

"Thanks for wearing short shorts. I was thinking I was going to have to figure out how to undo the waistband of your skirt or pants."

"More difficult than the bra, why I'm wearing the shorts."

"Oh, you wanted me to do something all along?"

"Maybe. Maybe why I invited you home."

"Nice girls do that?"

"I never have. Hm-hmm! Just wanted to look at pictures with my brother."

"Even better, thank you. So, I dare to put my hand on your bare thigh, not as close up as I want to, but you don't mind, and don't mind when it slides up a little. Oh no! They twitch together, but then spread wider apart. My fingers venture to creep up, and they just twitch again."

"I hope you're sucking one of my nipples, if your hand is down there."

"Of course. You hadn't objected to my kissing your neck ..."

"Probably gave me a hicky."

"Probably, but you only moaned, and didn't object, when I started to kiss my way down to your breast."

"I sure didn't! I wanted to push my breast up to make sure you found my aroused nipple, but I couldn't bring myself to be that open about what I wanted."

"While you were already holding my cock?"

"That had just sort of happened. Besides, you found my nipple without my help."

"Yeah, by then I understood that you would let me do anything on 'second base', but did I dare try to steal 'third base? I didn't want to get slapped or thrown out of the house. Maybe it would be better to wait till my next time at bat."

"Hm-hmm! With me holding it like that?"

"Yeah, and afraid that something could happen, that that could be very embarrassing."

"Like yesterday morning. Was I thinking it might, like that? I wasn't thinking, just hoping you fingers on my thigh would do more."

"You wanted me to steal third. Hm-hmm! It felt like it. You certainly were leaving it unprotected, and your skin inside your thigh was so thin and soft. I edge a little closer to it, and you moan. Is the third base coach signaling for me to make a dash for it? Damn! My fingers trip on the edge of your tight short shorts."

"I'm worried that you're going to run back to second base. If I can keep my thighs from twitching together, maybe you'll just stumble and go for it."

"I do. The batter hits a short ball into left field and you run back to catch it."

"And third base is completely unprotected, but I fumble the fly ball."

"Should have let shortstop catch it."

"Hm-hmm! I didn't want anything stopping short of where I wanted your fingers to be."

"Oh, that was good! Yeah, so third base is wide open. My fingers race over the inch or two of your shorts between legs. Safe at third!"

"Except that I still have my shorts and panties on."

"Yeah, but your twitching thighs ... "

"Quivering thighs are trying to stay apart, so that you can scuff around on third base a little, enjoy the satisfaction of finally having gotten there."

"'Scuff' with my cleats – fingernails – or how?"

"Any way you want, just do something! I'm moaning."

"Because you dropped the ball?"

"Because I want to hold yours, and you're just standing there, your fingers not doing anything."

"Yeah, I hear you, and your shorts are so tight there too. Third base is so nice and round and firm."

"It's probably moving. Must be a mild earthquake."

"Um-hmm, it is, rocking a little, suggesting that my fingers rub it."

"Thank goodness! Finally! Just do anything you want!"

"Shorts too tight to let my fingers find where your pussy lips meet."

"Mmmm! Hm-hmm! They probably aren't any more. Can't you feel that it's moist where they should meet?"

"Mmmm! Now I can, after rubbing some more."

"Must have taken a while to soak through to my short shorts. Are you going to dare to do more?"

"Like stop rubbing and trying to unbutton your shorts."

"Maybe I'm so far gone that I help you."

"If you do that, will you unzip my pants? My cock will spring out of the fly of my boxer shorts."

"Scary! Did we turn off the lights? I'm a little embarrassed about letting you see me all naked."

"Me too. About your seeing my cock, embarrassing for me too?"

"Yeah, kind of. We shouldn't be doing this, especially not in my family's living room, so easier if we don't have to see what we're doing and where."

"Okay, so we only left on the light in the entrance."

"That's good. Yeah, I'll unzip your pants. Hm-hmm! If you say 'please', when I find the tab."

"'Please!' And you help me with your shorts, so I can keep rubbing."

"I guess that I have given up all reservations. I want my pants off and want your cock to spring out."

"I do too, but this is going to be the first time, and worse, I am afraid I'm going to come the second my cock springs out."