My Sister's Innocence - 2

This is the second chapter, once again Grant\'s point of view. To read the other brother\'s stories, please go to My Sister\'s Innocence. Thanks for your continued support.

Chapter 2

Days went by without a hitch. Kayla never said anything about what I had done to her, not to our brothers, not to mom, and as far as I knew she had not even told her best friend. This was thrilling and disturbing all at the same time. What it said in my mind the loudest, though, was that she had enjoyed it.

I had to bide my time, wait for her to bed ready, and for a moment when we would be alone. Living in a house with a mostly absent mother usually meant she wasn’t around, but Tristan, Brent, and Bryce always seemed to be hanging around.

My patience paid off one weekend about three weeks after my first incident with her. In the three weeks Kayla seemed to have brushed it off, and was even treating me like she always had, and in a way that had begun to bother me. I wanted something special. I wanted to fuck her in the coat closet while our mom read on the couch. I wanted to be sneaky, but I wanted to be dangerous, and here she did not even give me stolen glances.

I was going to make her want me more than she had ever wanted anything, including the red sweater that clung to her breasts so tightly.

Brent and Bryce had gone off to their track meet and Tristan had found a date to keep him preoccupied. Mom, as always, was out working, and Kayla and I were alone.

I stalked her throughout the day. I waited for the perfect opportunity. She showered, and that didn’t seem right, she read a book on the couch, and it seemed too obvious. It was not until she went into the kitchen to grab a glass of lemonade that I knew my perfect opportunity was there.

She had the freezer door pulled open and she was reaching in for an ice cube. She never even heard me coming. My hands were around her, reaching into the freezer as well, brushing against her hands as I gripped the ice cubes. She seemed stunned and held her breath, and I could smell her intoxicating scent of innocence and lust that still surrounded her tenaciously. I wanted it just as badly as I had three weeks ago, if not more because I had that tiny little taste.

I gripped onto an ice cube and started to draw it out, watching her eyes follow my hands. I brought one hand completely out and then, as swiftly as I could, I reached under her blouse and felt around the lines of her bra, the ice cube trailing across her skin. She let out a little screech from the sudden cold, her body covered in gooseflesh as it tried to warm itself. She reached up towards my hands, but my other hand came around and gripped her thin wrists.

“Don’t resist so much,” I told her lovingly. “You know you are enjoying this.”

She made a sound in her throat as if to deny it, but her body suddenly became less tense. I smiled secretly to myself, drawing the bra down away from her leg breast and running the cold ice cube against the nipple. It hardened instantly at the touch, her legs shivering against mine. I pulled her back, away from the fridge, enough to close the freezer door, then I slammed her back into the doors, pushing her nearly too tight against them, the ice cube stuck between her nipple and the fridge. She tried to push back, but I am much faster, and stronger, than she is. I slid a hand between her legs, under her skirt, a skirt, now what does that say? Of course she wanted me.

I cupped her through her underwear, shoving a finger down the slit that was already wetter than I expected. I moaned softly into her ear, to let her know how much I enjoyed this taboo relationship, and she bowed her head, as if to say she loved it but hated it all at the same time. I could live with those thoughts.

She began to squirm, the ice cube dripping droplets of water down her skin, soaking the bra beneath the nipple, and soaking through the top. I pulled her body away from the fridge and into my body, so I could have a good glimpse of her through the white blouse she wore. It was a beautiful and breathtaking sight, to see a girl so vulnerable, and yet covered. Her nipple clung to the soft white material, completely seen through the wetness. I turned her roughly to face me, slamming her back into the fridge. I lowered my mouth and took the already wet nipple into my mouth and began suckling. She leaned her head back, throwing back a moan of pleasure, her knees almost giving way, but I kept her standing, my hands rough on her hips, slowly pulling up the skirt while I bit through the cloth to the nipple. My little sister was moaning against me, enjoying it more vigorously than she had the first time.

I had her skirt bunched completely around the waist, finding it more erotic to fuck the girl while she was fully clothed. I ran my hands down her legs, then up mine, feeling my own hardness through my pants. I grabbed her hand and did the same to it, rubbing her hand over the inside of her thighs and then up and over my hardness. Once more she tried to pull away, but I wouldn’t let her. I held her hand there, rubbing up against her, moving my hips to justify a pure rubbing sensation, and then, just as quickly I turned her around once more to face the fridge. This time she was expecting it. She reached her arms out to brace herself, and though I had her pinned, she was in a much better position.

I tore my pants and boxers away and down, letting them fall around my ankles. I moved a hand between her legs once more, pulling on the underwear, and then deciding to just pull it to the side. I gripped the bottom and pulled the cloth away to reveal the most precious part of her pussy, and she was ready. I could see her glistening. I gripped the end of my cock, and in one swift movement I moved my body up and into her, her panties rubbing against my cock roughly. I did not care, I was inside of my sister, once more. This time I just held us both like that for a bit, getting us both used to the feel of being inside of her. She tightened and flexed her muscles, feeling me in her, seeming to wonder if she enjoyed this penetration.

Before she could decide or not if she did, I made the decision for her. I began to slowly move up and down, inside of her, and almost all of the way out again, this time giving her a steady motion to start out with. Her mouth was opened, her breathing heavy, and I could see the glaze going over her eyes of enjoyment. I wanted to tell her how much I was enjoying it too.

Slow was becoming too agonizing. My dick was growing larger inside of her, and it was growing more demanding. It wanted to slam into her as I had done the other night, and I had to admit I was willing to oblige.

I sped up, slowly at first, enough to just make her feel it, to get her out of the heavy breathing stage and into the small gasps and moans. I knew it hurt her, and I liked it more because she was in pain. I was relishing hurting her while I wanted to soothe that pain away, but if I couldn’t soothe it away by fucking her harder then it was going to remain while I took advantage of her, enjoying the wet dripping pussy. I delved deeper and she yelled louder, I moved faster, and her moans came along with it. My cock throbbed with her, her hot walls of her pussy closing in, gripping it until the sounds of fucking filled the kitchen, the quiet squelch showing how wet she was, and how hard I was fucking her. She put her hips out to meet the movement of mine, her breasts no longer pressed against the fridge. Now she was sort of bent over, her hands gripping the fridge to keep her up, her breasts bouncing against the wet blouse, one free and one still trapped, and I watched them move while I moved my hips. I went deeper and deeper, harder and harder, my own breath catching, my eyes closing in absolute pleasure. She moaned and groaned and gasped with every movement. She wanted it, I didn’t have to convince myself of this. She so wanted to be fucked, and she was enjoying that it was me taking advantage of her. She may not have coming willingly to me, but if I continued to sneak up on her, to just fuck her whenever the mood struck me, she would be willing. She would give her trembling protests, but in the end her pussy would be just as wet and her legs quivering just as hard.

Squelch.

She began to moan harder, the head of my cock hitting deep inside of her. With every slap into her body she cried out, her voice harder like my cock. She was beginning to slip, and I knew the signs of an orgasm. I gripped her hips, pushing in deep, and moving against that spot in her body. I hit it, hit it, hit it, rubbing against it, not pulling out as fast so much as just making sure that I rubbed constantly on the spot that seemed to be driving her crazy. I slowed down enough, letting her enjoy it, and finally her eyes opened wide and she let out a wide scream, her body spasming, and nearly falling over, but I was not going to let her off so easily. As her knees nearly gave I pushed her back completely against the fridge and hit the spot I liked better, further inside of her body. I fucked her hard and fast once more, her body limp, but still moving with mine. This was how real fucking should be, both willing to finish off each other.

I felt it coming, as did she. A few seconds before it came she stepped away from me, and I came on the floor, the fridge, and down my legs instead of on her or in her. She pulled her skirt down with a nonchalance she could not have been feeling.

She reached over me, grabbing a kitchen towel, and handed it over to me. “Here, let me get you a towel.”