Wild Sex Tales(Erotica)

The family all came home around the same time for dinner. Mom had grabbed Chinese on the way back from work and we all loaded up our plates. We had a tiny, circular dining room table that my dad had found at a yard sale down the street. It was big enough for four, but not six, so Lucy and I set out stack tables in the nearby living room and ate on the couch.

For such a large family — Mom, Dad, my three sisters and myself — dinner was upsettingly silent. I remembered how meals used to be, all of us carousing around the big table, talking excitedly about what had happened that day. Here, though, the clatter of utensils and plates overwhelmed whatever urge we might have had to say anything to each other. And what was there to talk about, really?

I waited till everyone seemed truly lost in their own worlds, then I elbowed Lucy. She turned and glared at me.

“What was that for?” she asked.

“I did it,” I said, under my breath, “I made it work. In my bedroom.”

“Oh, awesome,” Lucy said, her face shifting from slightly irritated to fully excited. Her eyes lit up like bright blue fire. “How was it?”

I looked down at the ground, shyly. I guess some things still felt strange to admit to my sister.

“Nice,” Lucy said, and gave my shoulder a playful shove.

After dinner, our siblings left to go hang out with their respective friends, leaving Lucy and me to watch TV with our parents. It’s not that we didn’t have our own social groups because we did. But most of our friends had gone away to college, while we were now at County, and so we had fewer social options.

I suppose we could have gone out, the two of us, but it was awkward to wander around our old hometown. The thought of running into people, of having to explain what had happened — I don’t think either of us was anticipating that interaction. So, instead, we stayed on the couch and watched TV with my parents.

It didn’t take long, however, for Mom and Dad to shuffle off to sleep, and so we found ourselves sitting together on the beat-up couch. Almost close enough to be cuddling.

“You want to do it?” Lucy asked.

“Huh?” I asked. I looked over at my sister. She was wearing a long, light pink, sleep shirt that went down to her knees — hiding her ample curves. She gave me a winking smile, like she was telling a dirty joke.

“Do you want to?” Lucy asked again. Suddenly, I realized what she meant.

“Here? Now?”

“Upstairs,” Lucy said. She didn’t wait for my response, just stood up and glided out of the living room. I mean, was I truly going to sit and watch TV by myself at that point?

Back in Lucy’s bedroom, I found her already lying splayed on the floor, pillow strategically placed under her. She’d lifted her sleep shirt up to her waist, exposing a pair of robins’ egg blue, bikini-cut panties.

Lucy grunted hello, then ground into the ground. “You need a pillow?” she asked, throatily.

“Nah,” I said. I lay down on the floor. I could feel myself stiffening already, and I knew I needed to take the opportunity before the act became impossible.

Lucy’s hardwood floors felt even better than my carpet. We were facing each other again. Hearing my sister’s gulping breaths, feeling her body tremble nearby, all of it conspired to take my experience from a solid 7 to a tremendous 10. Moments later, I was shooting hot seed into my shorts.

“You go?” Lucy asked. She looked about to hit the precipice, herself. Her cheeks were pinker than her shirt.

“Yeah.”

“Ahhhhhhh,” Lucy was overtaken by her own orgasm. Her eyes rolled back, and she collapsed. “Fuck that’s nice.”

Lucy picked up her head and met my eyes. Her look was dreamy, distant. Yet there was something focused beneath the surface. Like she was making a decision.

We shared a goofy grin.

“That’s it for you?” Lucy asked.

“Pretty much,” I said. I had no doubt I could squeeze another orgasm out of myself. But the rubbing took a lot out of me. Something about it was so much more taxing than the usual stroking off.Belonging © NôvelDram/a.Org.

“Well, OK,” Lucy said, “I’ll see you in the morning.”

I knew, right then, that she wasn’t making the usual, trite statement. It was an appointment.

A promise.