This is also one of my favorites
Naked by 0_Brooks
Ketty blinked. She could've sworn Jarrod's buttocks flexed suddenly, and even though they had the entire mile stretch of beach to themselves, she quickly looked away. She was sure he was sleeping, but that unexpected clench in his body made her feel like she just got caught sneaking a look at her half-brother's naked butt.
She felt her face flush, even in the late summer heat. Her dark eyes followed the water's edge, then the low standing cliffs along the shore. It couldn't be more than a quick spasm, but feverish daydreams took hold of her vulnerable mind.
Jarrod's sleek body was so close, so glaringly naked, she could hardly sit still. When she looked back at his daringly exposed ass, his muscles quickly relaxed and then flexed again. She couldn't hold back a flood of wondering if that was how his body would look heatedly lunging between her welcoming thighs.
Even though his face was buried in the crook of his folded arms, she could hardly bring herself to look at him with her overactive imagination playing that old trick on her again, conjuring raw visions of her older brother she could never confess to anyone. Visions, along with an uncontrollable rush of feelings, she could barely confess even to herself.
She blew a long, quiet sigh, and looked off down the beach for the umpteenth time, then back at Jarrod yet again. He was slender without being thin, with fluid lines, with enough definition to be striking but not intimidating.
To Ketty, it was the way a man's body was supposed to look. His dark brown hair was cropped short, and sometimes, she liked to imagine his lips had been made to fit against hers. She couldn't look at him more than a few seconds at a time before her heart started beating against her eardrums, and she forced herself to gaze back at the same series of landmarks; the same shimmering horizon and deserted stretch of sand.
This was the first time she'd ever been naked outdoors, and in those few hours, the world had ended and they were the only survivors.
The strong sun felt undeniably sensuous, although her most basic impulse was shame. She'd spent most of her life dressing to mask her striking attributes; long, loose tops that obscured the heart shape of her bottom and the agonizing curse of breasts too large for her petite body. Every time her enormous nipples hardened in public she wanted to crawl under a rock and hide.
Now the sun assaulted those nipples, rigid and swollen with sensation. She allowed her silken thighs to drift open slightly, then ever so slightly more, to feel the palpable play of its warm light on her shaven lips.
Ketty looked at Jarrod again and felt her eyes and pussy both flush with moisture. He was the only one who never made her feel like some kind of pneumatically overblown thing. Even in the house where they grew up, only Jarrod made her feel as if she was ever really at home.
After her mother left, she sensed a pervasive look of betrayal in their father's eyes. With her proud, Asian features, she resembled her mother closely, and their father never made more than token efforts to mask his resentment over constant reminders of the woman who rejected him.
Jarrod provided a buffer for their father's constantly dark moods. After he left, she felt like a foreigner in her own home. They barely spoke ever since the night he and Jarrod argued about her. She became something less than a stranger to her father.
"He is my home," she told herself. "My Jarrod is my home."
His buttocks clenched again and Ketty's head darted wildly in every direction. She wanted to crawl out of that body that was torturing her. She felt like some cruel, unseen captor had pasted electrodes to her nipples and clit, sending increasingly stronger pulses to her most fragile nerves.
How did she ever let Jarrod convince her to sunbathe nude? She realized he hadn't. His easy smile was disarming as ever, too much like a caress, his cool laughter a cloak of sweet affection. Then he slipped off his T-shirt and shorts and lay down naked on the blanket.
She found herself stripping naked just to have something else to focus on, to keep from staring at her half-brother's casually naked cock. There were no tan lines on his body, and she was just as relieved as disappointed when he finally rolled onto his stomach.
Ketty lay back in mortified surrender to the tide of her own sensations. Her left hand fingertips closed around her right nipple, pulling and rolling the heated knot. It was just this side of slippery from the remaining ointment on her skin. As she lifted and parted her knees, her right hand skimmed tentatively over the tiny, closely trimmed patch of hair at the top of her mound.
She looked again, briefly, at her brother, silently praying his sleep would hold him in oblivion a little longer. She scanned the sea and beach yet again. By now she'd practically memorized every rock and strand of seaweed. Then she let her head drift back against the blanket, its shape settling into the sand beneath. Her fingers spidered toward her sun lathered pussy, and she bit at her bottom lip as she stroked her swelling petals.
The air seemed to swirl around her cloying fingers. A tongue of hard sunlight lashed her swelling clit. Pads of her fingers drummed and slid across the simmering knot of sensation.
Her fingers moved on their own, down to splay herself open to the sea and sky. The same air touching Jarrod was touching her pussy. The apex of her sheath demanded unrelenting touch, as if it were drawing her finger deep, drawing a second along with the first.
Alone amid sand, sea, and sky, there was only Jarrod in her mind's vision. Her champion brother, as he stood unashamedly naked, within arms' reach.
In her mind, he did not lie down quietly, but moved across the last small step between them and folded her up in his long, firm arms. In her mind, he didn't care that the bare warmth of his cock was trapped between them, or that his body was pressing so hard against her improbable breasts. His cock surged with hard arrogance against her wilting body.
The man in her vision never considered he was claiming the soft mouth of his own sister, only that of the one glorious woman he needed and craved beyond any and all barriers. She was simply the woman for whom he would live and die, and this was simply her lifelong dream.
Ketty's buttocks lifted off the blanket as her fingers plunged deeper and faster. If Jarrod suddenly woke up and saw her she'd never be able to stop. She was rising above those cliffs, whose shade was slowly creeping toward them.
She wasn't a timid young woman anymore, plagued by self-doubt. She was no one's sister. She was a pure current of hot electricity burning everything that touched it.
She wanted to cry out in joy and panic as the crest of that wave coursing through her forced her muscles to tense until there was nothing left but a shivering gasp for breath.
Ketty's buttocks slowly returned to the blanket. Her chest rose and fell as she fought to keep her gasping perfectly silent. She cast a timid glance toward her brother, relieved to find him in the same dreamy state as before. She drew her fingers from her tender sheath and brushed the moisture over her nipples.
When her eyes closed she forgot where she was. Forgot who she was. Her chest began to rise and fall with almost normal breathing, while her right hand lightly grasped her left breast, and her fingers absently continued toying with her pliant nipple.
And she drifted.
* * * *
It was last night around midnight. She was standing at the railing on the upper level of the nightclub watching Jarrod's fingers scuttle across the piano keys. Admiring the fluid length of his arms, she could have sworn she remembered every time he ever held her. Like the time that boy made a rude crack about her chest in front of the entire biology class and made everyone laugh. She'd blushed so hard she nearly broke a sweat. She'd wanted to crawl under the desk and never come out.
All the way home that day she cursed herself for not being able to blend seamlessly into the crowd. She'd cursed the pneumatic bloom of her body that wouldn't slow down no matter how hard she tried to will it. She cursed her mother for the dark, epicanthic eyes that only made her stand out that much more.
When Jarrod went to her room, he sat with her on the edge of her bed and put his arms around her without speaking. She'd felt so much more than simply embraced, but as if a pair of great wings had suddenly enfolded her to make her feel safe and cherished. He placed a simple kiss on her forehead, and for a few seconds she thought she might never breathe again.
"Don't worry, Ket," he told her softly. "The only reason that idiot made a crack about you is because he doesn't have the guts to tell you how beautiful you are."
"I'm...not...beautiful," she choked in a hoarse whisper, wishing he wouldn't see the tear roll down her cheek.
"Oh, Ketty," he said. "My Ketty. Come with me, okay? I want to show you something."
Jarrod took her by the hand and led her to her own bathroom mirror. He grabbed a handful of toilet paper and carefully dabbed the moisture from her cheek. His eyes were like smoldering coals as he looked into hers, tenderly brushing her hair away from her face.
Then he turned her head toward the mirror.
"Look at her," he said. His voice was soft but emphatic as he nodded toward the girl in the mirror. "Look at that amazing face, Ket. Can you believe what a beautiful girl she is? I can't. I try, Sis, so help me I do, but sometimes it just hits me like a brick and I can't believe it."
"You mean...?"
"Yeah, Ket. I mean."
She turned to face him, to search his tiger's eyes for the slightest sign he was only saying this to make her feel better, but what she found almost paralyzed her.
She felt his thumb brush her cheek. Then he leaned across those last few inches and lightly touched his lips to hers. She felt his breath against her mouth. Then he suddenly mumbled red-faced apologies and left her there, alone with the memory of the softest touch she'd ever known.
A little later, Jarrod disappeared from the house for a couple of hours. The next day, and for the rest of her days in school, the boy who'd made the offending remark barely ever looked her in the eye.
A flood of memory had washed over her by that rail in the club last night as she watched Jarrod play. He seemed as lost to this world in his music as anyone is ever lost to anything.
She closed her eyes, listening to him play as she remembered that morning, five years ago, when he walked into her room about an hour before sunrise. She didn't wake up so much as suddenly realize she was conscious, immediately sensing his presence.
She'd been facing the wall and kept perfectly still. She hardly dared to breathe. She could feel him behind her, sitting quietly in the chair across the room. She could hear him breathe. The sound would have been unnoticeable any other time of day, but not that morning.
He must have sat there a good half hour, in near perfect silence. She wanted to turn and say good morning, but even that seemed intrusive. Strangely enough, she didn't want to disturb him.
She felt he'd snuck in her room to tell her something important. She didn't understand how she knew this, she just did. She was sure any moment she'd feel his weight settle down on her bed, his hand on her shoulder. She pretended, even to herself, she was still sleeping, remaining perfectly still while her heart beat like a roomful of kettle drums.
Jarrod had never done this before. At least not that she ever knew of. If it had been anyone else she would have felt like crawling out of her own skin, but all she could do was smile against her pillow.
Sometime later, she woke up, realizing she'd gone back to sleep while Jarrod sat watching. She turned to look at the chair he'd been sitting in, only to see he wasn't there anymore.
That was the day Jarrod left.
She didn't know until later that day, after she got back from school. Her father had been especially sullen. She could feel the hurt, anger and jealousy, even a briefly terrifying flash of lust, in his eyes, when they had to pass each other in the house that night. She knew her father wasn't even looking at her, but straight through her at her absent mother.
She remembered the heated argument between Jarrod and their father. She'd been afraid to go out of her room. Her name had been called out between them, but she hadn't made out much more. She didn't have to.
That was five, long years ago.
Finally, she had opened her eyes and returned to the reality of the nightclub balcony. She noticed the two blond German girls watching Jarrod play.
They were poised high on their barstools, legs crossed and careless skirts rising too far up their long, beach-butter thighs. They grinned and whispered to one another, casting the kinds of looks at her brother that made something clench in the pit of her stomach.
Jarrod was oblivious to them, but Ketty suddenly felt like she was suffocating. She felt an overwhelming need to get out of there as fast as she could. So she did.
As she hurried down the steps to the bottom level, then past the gauntlet of people along the bar, she couldn't bring herself to look at the two blonds or even at Jarrod as she rushed out of the club. At least she felt some small relief that Jarrod hadn't seen her leave.
It felt like her ears were burning and everyone was staring in judgment as she rushed out. The heat became a sort of terrible rushing sound as she walked as fast as she could, short of breaking into a run, toward Jarrod's empty apartment.
* * * *
The rushing sound ebbed and changed, and Ketty realized it wasn't last night anymore. She was still lying naked on the beach, dangerously close to Jarrod, and that rushing sound was only the soft lap of the tide at the rocks and sand.
Shading her eyes with her hand, she opened them and turned to look at her brother. He was awake, lying on his side with his head propped up on his hand, staring at her with a glazed look on his handsome face. She suddenly realized she was still worrying her nipple with her other hand. She bolted upright and hugged her knees, trying to fit her breasts behind them.
"Jarrod! I thought you were sleeping!"
He bolted up just as quickly and looked down bashfully.
"I was, um, pretty much...sleeping."
Ketty watched her brother's head shoot back upright the second he realized he was staring down at his cock. She almost giggled aloud while he seemed to scan the horizon for something else to focus on. Then she found herself doing the same thing when she saw what was resting there, between her own brother's casually open thighs. It was the last place she had the courage to look, despite the equally powerful draw of her curiosity.
"Well geeze."
By now, her attempt to whine in annoyance was hardly convincing. She felt renewed sensation in her nipples, feeling them pebble with fresh heat against her knees. She hugged herself a little tighter, as if she could make it go away, but then she realized it only caused her breasts to billow out along her sides even more conspicuously.
"I mean geeze. You freaked me out, Jar."
She bit her lip and turned away for the hundredth time. She just wanted to lie back down and drift off again and let him look at her while she didn't have to be aware of it.
"Sorry. I didn't mean to make you nervous."
The soft whispers of a calm sea stretched out for miles in the silence before Ketty replied.
"It's okay, Jar. You don't really make me nervous. I guess I just make myself nervous sometimes."
"Well, if anyone understands how you feel, it's me," he replied thoughtfully. "I know one of these days you're really going to see how incredible you are."
Ketty's face felt hot. She hoped the deepening tan she was already getting would conceal the blush.
"Oh, Jarrod, I'm not...I don't know...not really..."
"Yes you are," he returned, his tone full of gentle force.
He turned toward her and placed his hand over hers. It was just a simple, innocent touch. Her brother's fingers were resting on hers, his warm palm against the back of her hand.
It wasn't the first time he'd ever touched her hand, but it felt different. They were completely naked on a long, empty beach. It was nothing like sitting fully dressed in a café somewhere with people all around them, where the simple touch of his hand on hers would feel like a normal gesture.
Jarrod's hand almost felt like it was made of soft electricity, and Ketty wanted to yank her hand away half as much as she wanted to grasp his hand as tightly as she could and never let it go. She let her breath seep out slowly and turned to face him. His eyes were like a pair of smoldering coals.
"I know how hard it was for you, Ket. I just wish you could see what other people see. What I see."
Jarrod pressed her hand. His eyes were full of moisture, and Ketty could hardly look at them, but she couldn't look away, either. He was holding her eyes steadily with his, as if their bodies weren't even there with them. Even so, Ketty couldn't forget their stark, glaring nakedness as a flurry of sensation spread out from the deepest depths of her being.
* * * *
This was the second time in her life that Ketty had ever been naked with a man. The first had been one of the worst experiences of her life. She'd thought he was sweet and caring, but when their clothes had come off, he turned into someone else. He became selfish, crass, and demanding, as if she were something he was entitled to.
He'd made her feel like a freak of nature.
"That mouth of yours was made for sucking cock," he'd said in a tone that bordered on threat.
He hadn't even kissed her yet when he advanced, naked, stroking his excited member, clearly intent on nothing but his own fleeting need. It seemed like it should have been bigger, longer than his hand.
Ketty had actually spent long hours imagining the first time she'd ever make love to a man's cock with her mouth. She'd been blessed and cursed with ultra-sensitive lips, and had even practiced on appropriately shaped objects, not wanting to seem awkward her first time. Yet she was as self-conscious of her lips as her breasts. Men and boys had said things about them since before she knew what they meant.
There was yet another small problem for Ketty. Whenever she'd imagined herself discovering the thrill of using her lips and tongue to drive her lover wild with heartfelt desire, she'd never been able to bring anyone to mind but Jarrod.
She just wanted to put her clothes back on and go home.
"Um...no...I don't...I can't...do this," she'd told him.
"Sure you can," he said, walking around the corner of the bed as she leaned up against the headboard.
"N-n-no, really. Really, please. I'm very sorry, but..."
"C'mon," he whined, "with a mouth like that you musta had lotsa practice."
She was suddenly incensed, and when he reached out to take her by the back of her head, she automatically reared back and kicked him in the solar plexus.
He was stunned, and fell back against the wall clutching himself as he fought to catch his wind. It still made her fume to think of the names he called her while she rushed to pull her clothes back on and escape his dank, confining dorm room.
She'd felt a hundred times worse than that time in high school, but she was in college then, and Jarrod was all the way in Europe, where he could neither comfort nor defend her like he always had. She made a solemn promise to herself never to allow any man to make her feel that way ever again. All she needed was to remember what Jarrod had told her in front of her bathroom mirror one day, and she knew there had to be something much more and much better in store for her.
* * * *
Jarrod's voice drew her back.
"I hope it's okay to say this, Ket, but I always knew there was something...special...about you. Right from the day they brought you home from the hospital all wrapped up in that little green blanket. And, well, you turned into this unbelievable woman. I mean, just...unbelievable."
His eyes never left hers as he spoke. Ketty felt the moisture in her own eyes well up until there was nowhere to go but spill down her cheek. She turned her hand underneath Jarrod's, so their palms were touching.
"I don't think I'm really what you say, Jar, but you know how much I love you for saying it. I just wish I could find...you know...someone who makes me feel like, um, the way you always did."
She knew he didn't fathom what she truly meant when she said she loved him. Nor would he ever know she'd already found the one who made her feel special.
Jarrod moved next to her, sitting with his knees drawn up the way she was, but facing the opposite way so he could look at her face. Their hips were touching, and he put his arms around his sister's bare shoulders and placed his head against hers.
"Kinda funny, isn't it?" he said. "But I always hoped I could find someone like you. Guess we're a pretty sad pair, aren't we?"
"Yeah, pretty sad," Ketty giggled softly as another salty rivulet fell down her cheek.
They sat that way for another few moments, neither saying anything more.
"You know I had to leave because of Dad, don't you? It wasn't anything to do with you," Jarrod finally said calmly.
"I know you were arguing about me," she admitted.
She put one hand on his shoulder, the other on his back. His skin felt damp and oily, warmed by the strong sun.
"Didn't he ever tell you what happened?"
"Oh Jarrod, I never knew what to think."
Their arms tightened around each other's shoulders. One side of Ketty's pillowy breast touched Jarrod's ribs. She was caught somewhere between not noticing and bursting into flame.
"I didn't think I had a choice, Ket. He was drunk, like always, and said a lot of nasty things...about... Well, it doesn't matter now. I wanted to take you with me, but you had another year of school."
"Jarrod." Ketty was only whispering, but the name on her lips seemed to reverberate off the cliffs and soar out across the sea.
"Jarrod."
"Ketty."
Ketty's eyes closed when she felt Jarrod's lips brush across hers. Her heart clenched with panic, but when her brother kissed her softly, she realized her own lips were responding, returning his kiss. She knew there was something wrong about a kiss like that, but she couldn't bring herself to feel in her heart what her mind was trying to say.
Jarrod held her face and kissed her a little harder. Their lips parted as if they'd rehearsed, and their tongues reached out to slide against each other. Ketty wanted to scream at the fates. She felt herself going moist again.
"Why does he have to be my brother?" she asked herself. Of all the men in the world, why did Jarrod have to be the only one she ever seemed to think was so beautiful? Why did he have to look perfect without his clothes? Why did he have to be the only one who could ever make her heart feel like a rush of warm wind?
Jarrod's hand lightly brushed the side of Ketty's full breast. They both reacted suddenly, pulling away from each other and looking off in opposite directions. Ketty could feel her chest heave with breath. Her pussy cloyed at the edges of her spirit, daring her to push her brother back against the blanket and straddle him.
Never once in her life had she felt such an urge. Not like this. She'd spent half her life learning to withstand the agonizing insistence of her body's needs. Prodigious, sometimes frighteningly deep needs. Yet she felt so distrustful of the men she knew that she was never able to live up to her body's expectations.
It had only made things worse to look and feel within like a woman bred solely for hard, frequent sex, yet with a heart that knew there was only one true partner for her. Jarrod. Only Jarrod, and he was the last man on earth for whom she was supposed to feel these things.
He was her own flesh and blood, even as half-siblings, and yet he was in her blood and she couldn't get him out. She didn't want to. Her heart beat the rhythm of his name since the day she was born.
She didn't want him to see her eyes now. He would see her blinking fast against her rising tears. She was sure he'd see right through to the lust she was fighting. She felt an overpowering need to push him back and take the tip of that cock she could barely bring herself to look at in her mouth and feel him harden and swell to her loving hunger. Only her fear of what he'd think of her was stronger.
"I'm sorry, Ket," he said. "I...I..."
"Oh um, maybe...uh...I guess I'll go for a swim now."
All she could think about was getting away from him before her body's demands could drive her to ruin their lives forever. She quickly stood up and walked toward the water. She felt her heartbeat calm as her bare feet skimmed the water's edge.
The water lapped around her ankles while she ground her feet into the soft wet sand. She closed her eyes and raised her face toward the sky. She seemed to forget she was naked on that broad, open beach, as she felt the caress of the air and sun on every pore. Home was a distant memory. Her entire life, up to that very moment, seemed to become little more than a dim lamppost she could barely make out in the fog.
"Am I still me?" she asked quietly.
Then she waded further and deeper in the water. She felt it rise up her shins as she walked past the hump-backed rocks. Up her thighs as she left them behind. The water felt almost tepid as the surface lapped her pussy, as she moved forward, until it curled around her waist.
She turned to look back at Jarrod. He shaded his eyes with one hand and waved the other. He'd just told her she was incredible, and then he kissed her like a woman he'd spent his life being in love with, not like a gawky kid sister he spent half his life guarding from ridicule.
Ketty turned to face him, her heavy breasts swaying freely with the gesture. At that moment, she felt no self-consciousness at all. She smiled and waved back. Then she felt herself falling backward into the calm water. It held her up. Her body was floating on the sea the way her heart was floating on her brother's love.
She felt weightless. Her breasts that often caused that ache at the base of her spine felt more like a blessing now. She wondered why she'd ever felt ashamed of them.
Jarrod watched his younger sister walk away. He felt as if his heart were falling from a vast height, and he was mesmerized by the fluid movement of her beautifully raw body. The way her buttocks played as she walked away left a lump of cement in his throat. He cursed himself under his breath. He was sure he'd ruined everything. How would he ever convince her to stay now?
As he watched her wade into the water, he peered once more at the damp spot on the blanket where he spent his cum while pretending to sleep. He knew his butt clenched like a hammy pair of fists as he fought to keep from spurting, and only hoped he could be lucky enough Ketty missed it.
It seemed too much to hope for, though. Then he had to go and kiss her the way he had. He couldn't help himself, and now she couldn't wait to get away from him. He couldn't imagine what she was thinking.
He felt like an awestruck kid having wet dreams all over again.
It didn't seem right to feel like a failure at thirty. He couldn't even fathom what he must have been thinking when he invited Ketty all that distance after not seeing her for so long, then convincing her to lie naked beside him in the glaring sun. Ketty. His shy, troubled, beautiful, half baby sister. The only female alive he'd ever spent more than a few weeks with.
He'd imagined their reunion so many times, in so many different ways, that he didn't know what to think anymore. He knew what he wanted, but he hadn't a clue what to expect.
Ketty alternated between swimming and wading further out.
Jarrod felt the distance between them as much as all the distance of years and time zones that stood between them until a few days ago. He wondered if he should have left it all alone, and never urged her to come. They could have gone five more years without seeing each other and everything would have been fine.
Distance was safety.
Now she was close again, staying in his small apartment. He found himself spending the bulk of every day worrying everything he'd done or said since she stepped off the plane was wrong. Now, as she turned to wave, the under-curves of her weighty breasts just skimming the water's surface, he replayed her arrival in his mind for the hundredth time.
He watched her in slow motion this time. She walked out of Customs rolling her one suitcase, with an overstuffed bag slung over one shoulder. She was wearing a loose, tie-dyed shift that fell almost to knee length, with clinging black bodysuit underneath. Her breasts had been trussed up snug against her body, and he recognized her old habit of hiding her unforgettable shape hadn't changed. As soon as she hit the air outside the terminal she was roasting under too many layers of clothing.
She looked like people do who've been traveling for many hours. A little rumpled, a little tired, yet excited to disembark somewhere new. His heart nearly exploded at the sight. It was as if he forgot who he was there to greet.
He felt five years lighter in the steps he took to reach her and wrap her up in his arms. The way she melted against him, resting her face against his chest, made it feel as if she'd come a million miles to be there with him, instead of the mere five thousand it really was.
When she put her arms around him and he felt her body fill and empty with a profound sigh, he didn't know how everything he felt could possibly fit inside him. Even worse, he knew he could never begin to tell her.
"I've missed you more than I can say," he told her, wondering if she could begin to understand why. He wasn't sure he understood himself. He didn't have a clue what it meant to be standing in the middle of a busy airport exit lounge holding someone as if they'd come to deliver the final, essential ingredient to your very existence, but he sure knew what it felt like.
From the airport, there was a three hour train ride south to the resort city where he was staying. Ketty slept through most of it. He didn't know if she was ever aware of how much of that time she spent with her head resting against his shoulder, or how he'd quietly rested his hand on top of hers.
He set Ketty up in the bedroom, while he took the sofa in the salon of the apartment he was using for the season. In the weeks before she arrived, he'd had a faint but nagging fear her being there might feel too much like the past, but Ketty was his past. If having her right there in the present meant dealing with a few unpleasant memories of their father, her mother, or of the sad little town they were from, then it was a small price to pay.
It didn't turn out that way, though. Ketty was still the shy, beautiful girl he had loved from the day she was born, but she was a young woman now. She was nervous and bashful as ever, but she seemed to carry herself with a stronger sense of who she was.
On someone else, it would have come off as confidence. On Ketty, it was something different, like an inner strength she didn't want anyone else to see. She was like the soft, unsure kitten he always knew, but beneath this veneer was a powerful tigress capable of ferocious surprise.
Having a woman stay in his apartment was enough to alter his life more than he expected. His bathroom was suddenly full of things like scented bath oils, skin lotions, razors, and an array of cosmetics.
Every time he went into his bedroom for something he needed, he was surprised by the sight of the alluring camisoles and panties strewn around the room. He could barely bring himself to look at them for thinking of Ketty wearing them. Yet he could barely look away.
He never expected to feel so much tension just running into her in the bathroom doorway after waiting out her evening bath. He'd get anxious for his turn, and Ketty would finally come out wrapped in a bath towel. The gently bombastic curves of her breasts were an ambush of distraction. The impertinent swell of her saucy buttocks made his heart race. What was worse, her skin had a satin quality that demanded touching.
There was one thing, though, that scrambled his senses more than anything. It was when she looked at him with that unconscious curiosity in her face, as if she sensed his preoccupation but didn't understand the cause of it.
Anytime she turned her eyes on him they felt like chains forged of something soft but stronger than iron. The kind of chains that at once gave him the inhuman strength to break them, along with the wisdom to know breaking them would be an act of Olympian foolishness.
He often wondered what Ketty thought whenever she caught him looking at her mouth. He always felt a paranoid fear she could see through to his thoughts, as he imagined the shape of her supple lips parting to curl around her spoken words like teasing sirens.
He spent more time dreaming of kissing her than any sane man had a right to. He entertained many other visions involving those lips, and even his cloying guilt couldn't stop him. Their years apart had done nothing to quell the feelings and desires their father had callously used to bruise his spirit.
As he sat on the beach watching her swim, he knew he was nothing more than the kind of man he was supposed to protect her from. Even now, his cock bristled with fresh sensation, threatening to lift in defiance as he tried and failed to fathom the depth and shape of his hopeless love for her. Everything about him was wrong. His entire life had been a mistake. A years long trail of selfish choices.
What he wanted for Ketty was someone a thousand times better, yet only someone who loved her as he did, as if the first time his heart ever beat to set the unstoppable river of his blood into motion was the day she was born.
Jarrod had no illusions as to the dark streaks across his spirit, but he knew this was how he loved Ketty. The idea of anyone else falling in love with her made him want to fume with indignity, although it wasn't easy to feel indignant about much after lying naked with her all afternoon, not to mention his body's uncontrollable reaction. He was selfish enough to believe Ketty's painful self-consciousness about her body wouldn't apply to him.
He should have expected the near panic that clouded her eyes when he peeled off his T-shirt and shorts in front of her, or how her furtive glances at his nude body excited him. He knew she'd only taken her swimsuit off because leaving it on would have been even more awkward.
Long ago, he'd admitted to himself his complete desire for her went back to the very first time he noticed her blossoming femininity years before. Yet he never expected to grow so hard with excitement he had to roll on his stomach, powerless to control his cock as his cum pulsed into the fabric they lay on.
Jarrod felt like a selfish animal. Their father had been right all those years ago.
* * * *
He'd been drinking, as usual, and Jarrod was fed up with his father's slow, steady decline. Dan Wells did very little beyond growing fatter and more self-pitying in the same arm chair night after night.
"Well if it isn't Sir Gal-He-Had," Dan smirked. "On your way out to chase some tramp who reminds you of your sister?"
Jarrod bristled and froze in his tracks.
"Actually, I'm going to work," he said, measuring his breath. "I'm playing the Northern tonight, but I'm sorry I don't have time to sit around getting drunk and feeling sorry for myself."
Dan grunted. "Still on a higher evolutionary wrung."
"Have another drink, Pop. Just be careful you don't break your neck when you fall off the ladder."
"You look at her the same way I used to look at her mother. Just in case you don't think anyone can see it. She sees it, you know. And she looks right back at you like her mother never looked at me."
"Too much whiskey is making you hallucinate, Pop."
His father snickered.
"Pretty soon," Dan went on, "she's gonna be out there just like you are, spreading her legs for every half-ass tool who makes her think of you. And built like she is, she's gonna have plenty of..."
Jarrod moved faster than even he thought he could. He found himself gripping his stunned father's shirt front with his right hand reared back in a fist.
When he hesitated, his father cracked a boozy grin.
"Go ahead, Tarzan. Give the ol' man a good smack. If you really think I'm full of shit, that is. Otherwise, you're gonna make me spill this whiskey."
Jarrod thought hard about punching his father. He thought about Ketty and that time in her bathroom when he'd kissed her. He thought of everything he felt and never acted on.
When his attention finally came back to his father's drunken leer it was too late. Dan already saw everything mapped out in the lines of Jarrod's face.
"You've got a fucking toilet where your mouth belongs," he finally said, letting go of his father's shirt.
When he got in later after his gig, his father was passed out in his usual spot. He padded quietly upstairs and packed. Then he walked into Ketty's room and sat in the chair across from her bed. He lost track of how long he sat there debating whether or not to wake her up and tell her to pack as quickly as she could.
In his mind, he saw himself rise from the chair, place his hand on Ketty's shoulder and turn her toward him. "Lets go now," said the better part of himself in his brief vision. "We'll always be together, Ket. Just you and me."
Still, he couldn't believe Ketty ever looked at him the way their drunken father claimed. Spiteful lies. He was sure Ketty would have been shocked, or worse, end up hating him.
So he left for Chicago, finally accepting his friend's offer of a place to stay. He'd done well in Chicago, but two years later he went to Europe and never looked back, except for one reason.
One reason alone.
* * * *
Jarrod felt like his heart had a thousand tiny cracks on the surface that would only deepen until it shattered. As he watched Ketty play in the water, she seemed completely free of the worries and fears he'd always been so painfully conscious of.
It was as if he could feel her mood, even from that growing distance. He was imagining things, he knew, but there was such freedom in how she moved through the water. She made him think of a beautiful mermaid as she rolled into a backstroke and let the sun shimmer against her wet breasts.
Jarrod felt his cock thicken with new sensation. He shifted position, concealing himself as he let his hand curl around his growing shaft. He stroked himself, his flesh steadily filling with the ripe blood of unending desire for his beautiful sister.
* * * *
As Ketty backstroked, cool water and hot sun caressed the mounds of her heaving breasts. She felt a singular moment of pride in them. She even felt like she was getting used to being naked outdoors, as if she could even come to like it. It had only taken all day, and at least there was no one around to make her shrivel up with shame. No one but her beloved big brother was there with her, and when she forced herself to be utterly truthful, she was sure he liked what she had.
Her mind floated back to the cramped little bathroom in Jarrod's apartment the night before. She sat on the edge of the tub during her bath, carefully shaving her pussy, delicately primping the one, scant patch of hair she left to adorn her shapely mound.
She always took time with her shaving ritual. Ever since that one, terrible attempt in college, it was the only tender, caring attention she received. She never trusted anyone else, but she couldn't simply go without, so she took her pleasure upon herself.
It seemed impossible to get through her pampering ritual without responding. Knowing Jarrod was out there, just within whispering distance on the other side of that bathroom door, only intensified every sensation. The wetter and more flushed Ketty's pussy grew, the more aware she was of her brother's presence.
She'd practically felt like an exhibitionist. She didn't resist images of her brother storming through the door to claim her in her naked glory. She welcomed them and got so wet she could slip two of her fingers inside herself as she massaged her clit with the other hand. She was afraid to breathe too loud, sure Jarrod would hear and understand everything at once, but the very idea of how easily he could just step in and see her, even take her then, made her want to wail.
She drove herself to a shuddering yet silent orgasm, and the exertion to keep from making a sound only magnified the electric shivers coursing through her body. She came so hard she could've curled up in a ball and gone to sleep for hours.
Ketty wanted to believe her whole life had turned upside down in the five days she'd been here with Jarrod, but it truly felt as if her life had always been upside down and was finally being turned right-side up. Being so close to him again charged her blood with a tingling electrical current.
She couldn't believe she even masturbated right there on an open beach, with a naked Jarrod dozing right beside her. She giggled at herself for imagining he only pretended to be asleep to watch her make herself cum. She was already feeling the same nagging flush of desire return, refreshed and renewed, as her lips swelled and simmered. Spending an entire day naked beside him was just as empowering as it was frightening.
She'd been both mortified and excited beyond belief when he stripped naked and lay down beside her, as if it were the most normal thing in the world. She wondered if he had any idea how many times she'd stolen looks at his naked cock. Enough to know when he finally rolled onto his stomach to doze, he looked much longer and thicker than when he first let his shorts drop to the beach.
The idea he was actually cumming when she caught his butt cheeks flexing was positively impossible, but it didn't keep that smile off her face, or the prickly wet heat from surging through her pussy. She wanted to reach out and squeeze his butt, but she didn't dare.
"Face it, Ketty," she said softly to herself as she swam, "you're in love with your brother, and there isn't a darn thing you can do about it."
Then, for the first time in her life, she started to wonder if revealing how she truly felt for him would really be the disaster she'd always feared. Here? Now? In this Eden of his naked, loving presence? How could anything be a disaster on a day like this?
* * * *
Jarrod realized Ketty was swimming back toward shore, and his cock was ripe with desire as he surreptitiously stroked his rigid length. Damn it! He was so hard he'd have to lie on his stomach for the next hour waiting for his excitement to subside. He felt like an adolescent idiot as he thought briefly about rolling over and cumming in the blanket again. No. He refused to let that happen again.
Ketty was wading back through shallow water now. Her wet hair clung to her head and shoulders while her sumptuous breasts quivered heavily with each step. The sight only made his shaft pulse with a need he'd been harboring for years.
Her pussy was nearly bare. There was merely that brief tease of a landing strip topping the most alluring pout of feminine mound he'd ever seen. He was beginning to think he'd never make it through the rest of the day without blurting the confession that had simmered inside him for years.
* * * *
"Oh my god, he's hard!" Ketty shrieked silently as she stepped back on the sand. Even from here she could tell.
She paused and flung her head back, pushing her hair back with her fingers, letting the water drip from her tingling body before moving on. Her nipples were rigid as dark pebbles, and she was sure her swollen lips would be every bit as conspicuous as that stiff, virile rod jutting up from between her brother's thighs.
Was she seeing things? Had he actually been...touching himself?
She was looking right at him. Looking at him looking at her.
* * * *
His first instinct was to drop his cock like something on fire. Yet he was on fire, and the flames burned harder and hotter as he watched Ketty slowly walk toward him. He was too mesmerized, too aroused, to just roll over and pretend to sleep like before.
A strange combination of calm and panic came over him as she approached. The moment he dreaded and dreamed of for years -- his entire reason for bringing her here today -- had finally arrived. No more games or delays. No more excuses.
All he was sure of was that he couldn't live with a secret that consuming anymore.
His heart felt like a slamming door as he fought to sit still. He sat cross legged, no longer trying to conceal his obvious desire. His throat knotted as he followed the magnetic sway of her mountainous breasts. She was close enough for eye contact, but he realized she wasn't looking at his face.
* * * *
Ketty wanted to freeze in her tracks, yet she also wanted to sprint the rest of the way, shove him down on the blanket and straddle him like a fence rail. He was looking right back at her now, and the last thing she wanted was to let him see the years of wicked desire beaming from her stunned eyes.
Could he see the way she stared at that prominent stalk of throbbing male flesh, despite her trying to cast her eyes downward? How could he not? She kept a slow, measured pace. She'd wondered how he looked for so long, and now the sight of his excited body made her shiver. He seemed so...big...considering all she had to compare him with.
Jarrod cussed himself out under his breath, wishing he'd just rolled over and blasted his overheated arousal into the blanket when he had the chance. This was the worst possible way to show her the true depth of his feelings. He knew he'd just made the worst choice of his life, and yet if he tried to turn back now it would only magnify his stupidity.
He couldn't imagine looking any more ridiculous to a woman than he did now, shamelessly exhibiting his ripe desire to his own, beautiful sister. He was already trying to think of how to explain himself. He'd say anything to keep her from hating him for the rest of their lives. Yet overpowering all of this was the aching pulse of need wracking his entire body and displaying itself right there in the haughty jut of his rigid cock.
Ketty's body struck him like a monument, but a living one, with a heaving sway to her mind-warping breasts, the dainty flex of her thighs with every step, the perfect, heaven-forged pout of her lush mound. Wet from her swim, her hair looked like rivulets of jet-dark liquid running down her neck and shoulders. In the open scrutiny of the late day sun, her water beaded skin glittered like a constellation.
The world would be a polluted wasteland without Ketty in it.
A prodigious bead of precum seeped from the round tip of his cock. Without realizing what he was doing, he took hold of his shaft and thumbed the viscous moisture around the dome.
"My god," he whispered to himself. "How will I ever go on without her?"
* * * *
How a man's body is supposed to look, Ketty repeated silently. She felt like she was trying to swallow a stone as her feet slowly carried her closer and closer to her naked, very aroused big brother. She couldn't resist letting her thighs rub together as she walked, drawing even more wet heat from her throbbing slit that seemed to be in a constant state of flow around the one man she ever desired but could never possess.
How is it she even still existed, after suffering five endless years thousands of miles away from him?
Ketty was sure the only reason he had that painful looking erection now was because he hadn't taken either, or even both, of those tall German girls home from the club last night. He didn't talk about the many women in his life, but she always knew. She knew that look in their eyes and the tone in their voices. She giggled silently and cracked the tiniest smirk as she imagined telling him to his face how she'd give him a very sexy reward for repressing his prodigious urges just for her.
She almost wanted to turn around and dive right back in the water. Even though she was still dripping from her swim, she was sure he'd notice the other kind of drip that was beginning to smear her thighs. Her nipples felt like pure electricity.
He looked so hard. So painfully engorged. Was he...? He was! He was feeling himself, and he looking...right...at...her.
Then a sudden realization washed over her. She understood he already knew everything she hoped and dreaded.
* * * *
Jarrod didn't even realize he was smearing his own precum over his cock until it dawned on him that Ketty was watching him do it. Yet she didn't turn away or cry out in disgust. She just kept coming, closer with every step. Did she even realize she was almost grinning? Could he possibly mistake the burning gleam in her deep, magnetic eyes?
Then a sudden realization washed over him. He understood she already knew everything he always hoped and dreaded.
Ketty's shadow cut diagonally across the blanket.
Jarrod started to get up as Ketty went to sit down. They ended up on their knees, facing each other. Now their shadows crossed the blanket like a pair of gate posts. Fear, lust, astonishment, and apprehension was clear in both pairs of eyes as they gazed at each other, and yet it seemed, finally, the most natural thing in the world to be doing.
Jarrod reached up and touched his sister's cheek.
"Ketty..." he could barely whisper.
"Jar..."
Before she could finish pronouncing his name, he leaned forward and kissed her. Her lips felt as if they'd been custom made just to fit his, and he felt it was the first time he'd kissed -- really kissed -- a woman. As Ketty's mouth opened for him, he realized no woman had ever kissed him with such blood boiling need, just as he'd never needed anyone the way he needed her.
When their tongues met, it seemed as though two keys slipped together to open one lock.
Ketty touched her brother's chest, and he curled his arms around her to pull her to him. He kissed her harder and deeper, his sizzling cock firmly trapped between them while her unwieldy breasts pressed tightly against him. His broad, pianist's hands explored the svelte terrain of her spine, until they were suddenly filled with the lush spheres of her ass. He gripped and clutched her warm flesh and ground his need-engorged shaft against her.
She whimpered into Jarrod's mouth, while her hands couldn't seem to decide which way to go. They were all over his back and shoulders, sliding over his buttocks and thighs. Ketty explored him with rapidly growing confidence, and everywhere she touched seemed to leave a trail of electric sparks.
They both needed to breathe at the same time.
"I'm so sorry, Ket," Jarrod sighed, brushing dark, wet hair from the side of her face. "I should've told you how I felt years ago. I should have taken you with me then."
Ketty smiled at him. Everything in the past suddenly became just that: the past. She was so deeply entrenched in the present for the first time in her life that ideas like past or future seemed hopelessly unimportant.
"I know that now," she told him. "But we both know it would've been impossible. Besides, you made me so proud of you with everything you did. And look where we are now."
"I hope it was worth the wait," he mused softly.
"Right now, it doesn't feel like I was ever waiting. But, um, I'm definitely not going to wait any longer."
She uttered a nervously coy giggle and suggestively rubbed herself back and forth across the hard cockshaft trapped against her body. Jarrod groaned and kissed her again, rolling his thumbs over her protruding nipples.
"I love you, Ketty," he finally gasped. "Everything I ever dreamed of is right here in front of me."
"Oh Jarrod, I...I love you so much."
Jarrod buried his face in her neck and kissed the soft, damp skin where her shoulder met her throat. She tasted of ocean and female. His kneading hands caressed the overflowing flesh of her breasts with surging passion, while a soft mewling sound rose up through her throat. He could feel the vibrations of her voice against his lips.
Ketty's right hand fumbled anxiously into the tight space between them until her fingers encircled the hot girth of his cock. Jarrod nearly felt paralyzed by her touch.
Her hand felt a little clumsy and unsure. Pure Ketty. His own, clueless baby sister, living in a world of self-doubt when all Jarrod ever saw was her stunning, selfless beauty, with no reason for the crippling shyness she suffered. Her fingers relished every pulsing contour of his cock as they explored him with ravenous curiosity. Her kiss was just as ravenous, giving and taking all at once.
This was the fierce woman Jarrod had always known lay beneath Ketty's prim, quiet veneer. The woman he had loved and craved since the first day he sensed her. Now that she was actually touching him, actually kissing him back, giving back all the delirious hunger he felt for her, he knew he'd never let anything stand between them.
Jarrod's hand took a slow, grazing sweep down Ketty's body until he was touching the elegant silk of her supple thighs. The tip of his pulse engorged cock was seeping precum all over Ketty's hand, smearing his entire shaft as she stroked him. He cupped his hand over her mound, and his finger delved against the flushed wet folds of the slickest, daintiest petals he'd ever touched.
Ketty gasped when Jarrod's finger slid along her aching furrow, and her grip on his cock suddenly tightened in response. Jarrod practically sank his teeth into her neck. It seemed like her honied moisture virtually flooded around his finger, and she began stroking his cock with unrestrained excitement.
Jarrod found Ketty's lips again, and they looked at each other with wide open eyes as he kissed her deeply, his finger pressing deeper into the yielding folds of her pussy. Her eyes grew huge as a sensation poured through her. She might have mistaken it for simple pleasure if she'd felt it only in her body. Then her throat and jaw suddenly opened. She seemed caught in a brief moment of silent paralysis before a shuddering yowl came from deep inside her that echoed straight into Jarrod. It was like she was filling him up with something that felt more like light than sound.
Jarrod squeezed Ketty's nipple and pressed the tip of his finger into her slick cleft, slipping gradually deeper. She rolled her hips against his hand, and reached to hold onto his shoulders for support. She was trying to say his name, but couldn't seem to form an entire syllable without gasping for breath.
"Ja...Ja...Ja...,"
"Ketty." Her name was a whisper, his lips the shape of it against her ear.
Jarrod slowly drew his finger away from her simmering sheath and took hold of his aching cock. He guided his oozing tip to replace the void his finger left. Massaging, pressing at her saturated lips.
They looked at each other and might have grinned if they both weren't a little stunned. They looked down simultaneously, as if seeing the juncture of their bodies was their only proof of the feelings spiraling through them.
Ketty ground her swollen lips against his rigid shaft, smearing her dew along his length. Jarrod sank back on the blanket, lying back, pulling her with him.
As he gathered the weight of her breasts in his hands, she leaned forward, lowering them to his mouth. Whispering groans rose from her throat as he sucked a nipple deeply. He pushed his thumb inside the ring of his own lips and rolled it across her taut, russet bud along with his tongue at the same time.
When he moved to pay equal attention to the other nipple, Ketty braced herself on one arm and reached back with the other, trapping his cock under her palm and rubbing his flesh deeply into her cleft.
Jarrod opened his eyes as he felt Ketty's breasts move out of his grasp and her lips on his chest, kissing a trail down his flat belly until she had the tip of his cock trapped beneath her soft, moist lips. Her tongue swirled out to explore the contours of his ridge, lapping at the thick coating of precum covering him. She moved off to his side and placed her lips along his shaft, massaging him with her mouth.
He groaned and reached for her bare hip, curling his large hand around her cheek while she touched his nutsac with the tip of her tongue. She licked at the shape of his balls, kissing them, sucking each one into her mouth before letting her tongue explore the sensitive underbelly of his shaft.
Jarrod didn't quite believe it was his own body he was looking down at, seeing his own, beautiful baby sister mark his cock with her saliva. But she was only his half-sister, he rationalized. They looked nothing alike. Nothing in the world gave him the right to love her the way he did, the way he always had, so he told himself he was taking it for himself, claiming this right once and for all.
"Ketty," he nearly gasped. "Ketty."
She paused, looking up at his face, holding his throbbing stalk in her increasingly bold grip. She stroked him slowly, waiting to hear what he wanted to say.
"If you go any further," he said, "I want you to know you're going to own me. We'll never be able to take it back."
"Promise?" she asked softly. Then she kissed his cockhead briefly.
His fingers slid toward her pussy, the tips lining up along the diminutive crease between her lips.
"I know you remember that time I came into your room before I left. I know you were just pretending to sleep, but I wasn't strong enough to say goodbye to your face. But I made this promise then. I'm just making it out loud now, finally. So you know what you're getting into."
She opened her mouth, and she started to say his name, but before she could finish, she took the head of his cock into her mouth. Jarrod groaned as he felt her suck, pushing her hand up and down his shaft at the same time. He could feel her tongue moving, even as she began moving her lips along the top end of his cock.
Her nectar coated his searching fingers as he took a small thrust upward, aching to be deeper in her mouth, but not wanting to give her too much too soon. The deeper his fingers explored, the more voraciously she consumed his yearning cock.
He was aching for release and could easily let himself lie back and explode across her tongue, but as his fingers sank deeper in her molten sheath, he found himself consumed by a swarm of simultaneous desires.
He withdrew his fingers and took her by the shoulder, guiding her to lie against the blanket next to him. Lying side by side, he kissed her again, his cock against her, as he found her wet pussy with his fingers again.
He massaged her slippery lips and slid one, then a second, finger up inside her channel. He gave her several gliding strokes, but then pulled his hand back toward her breasts and coated her distended nipples with the sweet nectar on his fingers. He sucked the heady froth hungrily from her nubs while she sighed and clutched the back of his head.
Ketty whimpered weakly as he repeated this several times, but he finally couldn't wait any longer. He turned to face her between the thighs, and slid his tongue in an upward slashing motion along her parted slit. He found her opening with his thumb and pressed inside as he licked around her lips, lapping around the edges of the slip-sliding thrust of his thumb.
Jarrod's lips closed around her hard clit, sucking the taut nub while teasing her with the tip of his tongue. She gnashed her hips against his face and gripped his head with both hands. Before long, she couldn't contain herself, not knowing what to do with her hands until her arms flailed a moment and she gathered up two hard fistfuls of blanket. Then her hips bucked and rolled against her brother's mouth, grinding against his driving thumb, and she came with deep, shuddering gasps for air.
Ketty's muscles gradually relaxed and her bum gently settled back on the blanket. Jarrod's mouth and hand were thoroughly smeared with her nectar. He crawled up to lie beside her and found her half dazed. Her head lolled his way and she grinned up at him. He kissed her without stopping to think he was forcing her own taste on her, but she kissed him back greedily while his wet fingers twirled firmly around her nipples.
She mewled into his mouth and reached for his pulse ridden cock. She stopped short of yanking, but he moved quickly between her widely splayed legs. Her thighs were warm and damp, unearthly smooth against his hips. The underside of his straining cock lay poised against her pussy, still flushed and inflamed. Her eyes grew wide again as he arched his back, bringing the blunt tip to rest just within the damp maw of her pussy.
"Ketty," Jarrod breathed her name, exerting a Herculean will to keep from simply plunging deep inside her. "Are you sure about this? When I'm inside you...I, um...probably won't be able to stop."
"Just tell me," she said raggedly. "Did you mean what you said about owning you?"
Jarrod closed his eyes and nodded.
"Then hurry up," she nearly cried, rolling her hips at him. "I need you. Need you now."
Jarrod pushed forward. His sister's sweet pussy yielded to the gentle but insistent pressure of his burning cock. He sank easily just past the tip before he reared back to take another, deeper drive inside her. Her channel was incredibly snug, yet flowing with honey, even in the wake of her climax.
Within a few more moments, Jarrod's swollen length was nearly buried inside her, and he kissed her again while his hips began their fluid, rhythmic rocking. Ketty mewled and gasped at the smooth, insistent glide of his imposing cockflesh.
Maybe it was just a genetic fluke, but it felt as if Ketty's pussy and Jarrod's cock had been made to fit together perfectly. She gripped him like a hot glove while the girth of his shaft stroked along every sensitive nerve of her tender aperture.
"You own me now," he told her, barely believing it was his own, beautiful Ketty's broiling pussy collapsing around the slippery thrusts of his cock. "I want to own you, too. I need you."
"You always have," she confessed, nearly stuttering each word. "Always."
The desperate excitement of Jarrod's plunging thrusts steadily increased, his cock driving through Ketty's core with growing force. Her thighs drew up higher, yielding even more to him, until his balls were nudging her primly puckered ass with every thrust.
As their gasping sighs and needful groans intensified, it was as if each of them were turning into something neither had ever been before. The sum total of their mutual existence was swiftly transformed into a pair of writhing bundles of pure sensation. They became like a water spout rising up off the sea behind them, swirling together as one entity, united in the need of their pleasure, the pleasure of their need.
"Owwww fuck!" Ketty suddenly yelped, breathless. "Fuck, fuck...ffffffuck!"
Jarrod kissed her ferociously, and then raised himself higher above her. He massaged her knotted clit with his thumb, rubbed the foam of their union over her nipples, rubbed her clit again, pushed his wet thumb in her mouth and watched her suck their mingled taste from him as he shoved and thrust and plunged.
Ketty's entire body rippled like the sea. Jarrod knew there was no more holding back, but he somehow managed to find the words to warn his lust-dazzled sister he needed to cum.
"Me...me...too," she gasped. "C-c-cum...in...me..."
Jarrod dropped his weight back on his hands and let go. He drove his pulsing cock harder and faster than ever before, feeling the walls of Ketty's channel ripple around his driving flesh. She pounded a steady beat against his tightly flexed arm with a loose fist, rolling and grinding against him as if she could swallow him up completely.
With a deep, heaving groan, Jarrod's granite cock lurched with explosive spasms, and he felt the rush of his own body-heated froth within his beautiful Ketty's undulating core.
Moments or hours later -- neither was ever sure which when they talked about it later -- Jarrod found himself pinned up on his elbows as his body crushed down against his sister's mountainous breasts and held his face to hers, listening to her breath rush against his ear.
He whispered her name two or three hundred times. Her fingers laced through his dark, closely cropped hair.
* * * *
Jarrod watched her sleep, spooned firmly against his body with her bum tucked against his cock. His flesh was already tingling with fresh desire, but he didn't want to disturb her. She seemed like something far better than human, as if in her post orgasmic slumber she embodied something deeper than peace. He felt it rising off her skin, and he wanted to be enveloped in the aura of her unconscious trust as long as he lived.
The sea was calm enough to seem perfectly silent. The air felt still as ancient sculpture. Even the voices of the gulls seemed muted and somber. Somewhere, a stork was clacking its jaw in a call of hunger to its mate.
Throughout the hours they'd spent on that beach, not another soul appeared to violate their long awaited marriage.
****
Ketty opened her eyes and smiled to herself, knowing Jarrod would sense she was awake. She didn't know how she could feel so different, and yet still be the same person she was a few hours ago. It was as if all her cells had rearranged themselves while she slept, and yet there she was, still Ketty, inhabiting an identical replica of the body she had before.
"I'm alive," she said softly.
Jarrod's thumb brushed her nipple.
"Very much so.
"Jarrod?"
"Mm?"
"Are you getting hard again?"
"Of course not. That would be impossible this soon after what you just did to me?"
"Liar," she giggled.
"Hey. Exaggerating and lying are completely different things."
"Sure they are...exaggerator."
A brief moment passed and Ketty's mood shifted to concern.
"Um, Jarrod," she began haltingly, "I'm kind of afraid what you're thinking now. I didn't mean to, um, turn into such a...a...you know...crazy thing."
Jarrod sighed and pulled her around to face him. He spoke directly to her, and she felt the burning sincerity in his tiger's eyes.
"What happens between us is between us," he said without a second's hesitation. "And today is by far the best day of my entire life. You're amazing. It's like you just needed me so much. The same way I've always needed you."
"You don't think I'm some kind of lust-crazed Jezebel?"
"Well, only if you're completely my lust-crazed Jezebel," he grinned.
"I'm just so afraid you'll let go of me."
"Jesus, Ketty. I've spent my entire life trying to convince myself I'm not some kind of pathetic nutcase for loving you the wrong way. I was afraid you'd hate me if you ever knew how I wanted you. If you think I'm ever letting go of you now then stick around and watch."
"I love you, Jarrod. Every day of my entire life."
He kissed her gently.
"I love you, too. Right down to that zit on your left butt cheek."
"Jarrod Wells!" She shot upright. "I do not have a zit on my butt!"
Jarrod laughed like a delirious boy while fending off his sister's mock, open handed blows.
****
The sun was almost touching the horizon. A slight chill would soon descend over their world. Jarrod stood and pulled on his shorts and T-shirt, while Ketty pulled on her bikini bottom.
She stood up and let him slip the oversized T-shirt she borrowed from his room over her head. For the first time she could remember, she didn't bother containing her breasts in anything else.
Together, they shook out and rolled up the blanket and towels.
Safely tucked under Jarrod's long, protective arm, Ketty leaned against his body, and let her husband walk her home.
