Samantha's lessons have taken her and her brother to a new level of pleasure as she prepares him for sex with her best friend Julie. Sam and Andy are beginning to see each other through different eyes.
By the time Sam awoke Saturday morning she could hear the family activity downstairs, her mother and father’s conversation slowly floating upstairs, and could smell the signature weekend scent; Andy’s pancakes. She lay in bed, absorbing the comforting sounds and scents when suddenly the memories of the evening before flooded her mind. The pizza, the wine, the movie, the, the…couch. And the kisses. Oh, the kisses. And Andy’s touches. She was glad she was alone as she felt her blush color her cheeks. What’s wrong with me, she wondered. What is this about? And with that her final memory; slipping into her bed, gently lifting the hem of the oversized t-shirt that she wore to bed, touching herself, feeling the tingling between her legs, stroking the tingling as if she was scratching an itch, the images of Andy flooding her vision as she stroked herself, the body-shaking, lifting-off-the-bed orgasm that hit her like a tsunami. Easily the best climax her virginal pussy had ever experienced.
She shook her head to clear her mind, breathed deeply of Andy’s cooking and, to distract herself, wondered, for the umpteenth time, how Andy got the cooking gene from Mom and she didn’t. In their parents’ absence dinner was never an issue; Andy automatically and willingly took on the task. Even ordering in was rare; Andy would rather cook and Sam was his happy best customer. She quickly showered, combed her damp hair, tied it up in her usual nursing student bun, threw on one of her favorite linen shirts, donned a pair of shorts in anticipation of the day’s early summer warmth, and headed downstairs to greet the day and her family.
“And here’s the sleepy head”, smiled her father, a charge frequently levelled against Sam as, yes, she was very often the last family member to get out of bed on weekends.
“It was a late night” she replied, glancing at Andy as she said it, noting the small smile that crept to his lips. “And it’s the weekend; pretty soon they’ll have us on shifts at the hospital and then I’ll really need all the sleep I can get.” Her father nodded in silent agreement as Sam took a plate, loaded some of Andy’s pancakes, filled a mug of coffee, and took her usual spot at the breakfast table. Again, as she inhaled Andy’s pancakes, drenched in maple syrup, Sam wondered at how Andy had somehow absorbed his cooking skills. He’d laughed and chided her, telling her that pancakes were the easiest thing on earth to cool, but hers never achieved the lightness, the fluffiness, the crustiness of his.
“We’re off pretty early to the wedding,” her dad’s voice intruded on her thoughts. “So you’re on your own for dinner; are you ok with that? And we don’t expect to be home until around midnight, so don’t wait up for us.”
Andy turned from the stove to Sam and asked “ribs ok? On the barbecue?”
“You have to ask? You know I love your ribs,” and suddenly the hidden meaning of her remark caused a slight blush as Andy turned to her with a slight smirk. Quickly, she asked “with slaw? Potato salad? That’d be perfect.”
“Done and did,” he said, “ribs, slaw, and potato salad it is.” To be honest, Andy was happy to have a task, something to distract him from thoughts of that evening’s lesson with Sam. After the night before, he wondered what more there was to learn, but he was sure Sam would show him.
“And there are a few chores, of course”; their father’s voice again. “We’ve left a list on the refrigerator.” At this Sam reached over and removed the list, quickly scanning it. Their parents, always fair, had left a “his and hers” list, although Sam and Andy were free to choose their tasks. Even so, it was almost certain that Andy would mow the lawn and tidy the garage while Sam dusted, vacuumed, and did a load of laundry.
The day progressed quickly, parents leaving for the wedding immediately after lunch, Sam and Andy engaged in their chores, and tasks being completed one by one. Around 3 in the afternoon Sam called out the back door to Andy “ready for a drink? Ice tea?”
“Sounds good, I’ll be right there.”
A few minutes later Sam heard the back door open as she mixed their ice tea, continued in her task and, turning to place the jug on the table was startled to bump against Andy. “Sorry,” he said, “I was just going to wash my hands.” But neither moved, frozen in the moment, each aware of the other’s closeness, their clothes touching, rubbing. Slowly, carefully, Andy wrapped his arms around Sam and pulled her to him, she holding the jug away so as not to spill. She pressed her face into his shirt, inhaling his scent, the bouquet of his work sweat, the smell of new mown lawn, and felt an electric shiver pass through her entire body, with a new and unprecedented tingling focussed between her legs.
Flustered, all she could think of was to say “you’re going to need a shower” and was relieved at Andy’s laugh. They sat at the table, relaxing with their drinks, and chatted about the progress each was making. Andy would be finished in ample time to make dinner, he assured her. But at the back of each of their minds, prowling through their darker thoughts like a leopard in the night, were thoughts of their coming evening, of the continuation of their “Julie lessons” as they’d come to describe them. But as she watched Andy drain his glass, watched his lithe, athletic body rise from the table, she thought “is this really about Julie?” and once more felt her blush rising.
Chores done, day waning, Andy showered and took control of the kitchen; cooking potatoes for the potato salad, thin-slicing red onion, cabbage and shredding carrots for the slaw, mixing a quick sauce to finish it, and marinating the ribs well in advance. Once all were in the refrigerator “to age” as he put it, he found a chilled bottle of chablis and poured two glasses, hearing the unmistakable sounds of the end of Sam’s shower. In a few minutes, her hair still damp, she descended the stairs in clean, comfortable shorts and t-shirt. Andy was surprised - and unready - for the sudden quickening of his heartbeat as he watched her descent. Was it just the cooking that had made the kitchen suddenly warmer?
As they sipped their wine Andy asked “are these our date clothes? Are we going super casual?”
“No, of course not. I’ll dress up and I hope you do too; we need to make it real.”
“Another movie?”
“I guess so. Maybe a walk after dinner?”
“Sounds good” and with that Andy rose from the table, took the food from the refrigerator, and headed to the barbecue.
As they sat at dinner, devouring the dinner Andy had prepared, picking up ribs with their fingers, tearing the meat off the bones and washing their fingers in the finger bowl Andy had provided, Sam smiled and said “I love ribs, Andy; eating them like this makes me feel like…primitive…a cave woman, you know?”
Andy laughed and said “and what does that make me, a caveman?”
“I think you’d make an excellent caveman, Andy” and, all thoughts banished and by pure instinct, she placed her fingers in her mouth, slowly drawing them out as her tongue licked the barbecue sauce from them. Now, for the first time, it was Andy’s turn to blush. “What am I doing?” thought Sam, “what is this about?” and casting her eyes down, breaking their gaze, grabbing her fork, and distracting them both with her finishing her potato salad.
Sensing a need to distract, to reduce the temperature between them, they began to idly chat, speculating on how their parents were doing at the wedding, what they each expected from the coming week, which led Andy to the topic that had trumped all their thoughts for a week. “Ummm,” began Andy, hesitant but knowing the subject had to be discussed, “is Julie, well, you know, is she on…”
“Birth control? No, she isn’t,” replied Sam bluntly and matter of factly.
“Well, then how…what…”
“Don’t worry, I’ve got that covered. I have a supply of condoms.”
Now it was Andy’s turn to be shocked. “A supply of them?” and suddenly he asked himself: did he even really know his sister?
Sam could read his thoughts and laughed out loud, a deep, hearty, pressure-relieving laugh. “No, silly, they’re not mine. They’re at the hospital” and patiently explained how, in decades passed, every year the nursing school would lose three or four students to unplanned pregnancies. One particularly practical head nurse saw a solution; she directed that each Thursday evening a substantial supply of condoms should, well, magically appear in the students’ common shower rooms. Sam laughed as she told Andy how depleted the supply was usually by Sunday evening. And the success and elimination of unwanted pregnancies encouraged the authorities until it became a tradition for one of the resident obstetrician/gynecologists to be available to counsel and assist the students with birth control; supplies of birth control pills were prescribed and IUDs were inserted. “This hear it’s Dr. Fulton,” she smiled. And, as Sam finished, all was done totally unofficially, “off the books” as she explained, and by word of mouth. Each year word quietly filtered down to the new students, always from a senior student and at the quiet encouragement of the teaching staff about the condoms, about Dr. Fulton, or about her successor.
When she was done Andy sat, staring, slack-jawed. Sam laughed at his response. “What did you think, Andy, that we were all a bunch of little girls? That the whole nursing student body was some kind of sex-free zone?” and laughed again.
Andy finally returned to the moment, shook his head. “Wow” was his only response. “Just wow.” And with that he rose from the table, placed the dishes in the dishwasher, and announced “time to dress to impress. Time to start the date,” and headed up to his room. Sam soon followed, heading to her room.
Andy rejected the jeans he’d worn the evening before, now getting into the spirit of the evening. He chose more loosely fitting chinos and a short sleeved linen shirt. Stepping back and glancing in the mirror he met his own appraisal; “pretty good,” he thought, “you’ll do, Andy,” and headed downstairs
But nothing prepared him for Sam’s choice as she seemed to float down the stairs. She was in a lovely flowered sun dress that dipped just enough to meet the lovely valley between her breasts and ended mid-thigh, leaving much of her well tanned, slender legs to his view. Andy was for once wordless and, seeing his response, Sam smiled; “will this do?” All Andy could manage was a slow, dumb nod.
Fumbling for a moment, his hands shaking, Andy said “how about the park for our walk?” referring to a park placed midway between their home and the hospital. It was an abandoned quarry that the city had converted to an arboretum over the years and it had now become one of the jewels of the city.
“Good choice, let’s go” answered Sam as they headed to Andy’s truck. Entering it Andy was surprised as Sam slid across the seat and found the seat belt at its middle, buckling in so that their bodies rested against each other. “This is a date, remember?” she slyly smiled. Andy felt his penis stir, an unwelcome response to her closeness, and immediately distracted himself by starting the truck and heading to the park.
They jumped out of Andy’s truck immediately at the park and, reflexively, Sam took Andy’s hand as they entered the arboretum. Glancing around, Andy was happy to see the virtual solitude the park offered; they were one of very few couples enjoying the sylvan environment. After a few minutes, in small grove, Sam led them to its bench, sat down, and softly pulled Andy to her side. She leaned toward him and took him in a warm, soft kiss. “When is the date starting?” smiled Andy.
“It’s well underway, silly” laughed Sam and took him in a second, deeper kiss, her tongue tentatively entering his, welcomed by his own. Each feeling immediate activity in their nether regions, by unspoken agreement they rose and began a slow saunter through the gardens, his arm around her, his hand slowly sliding lower, remembering and savoring again his favorite curve, from her side to her hip, finally resting with newfound authority, with even a proprietary air, on her hip. “This is really lovely, she sighed, “I really like this.”
“Agreed, but let’s move on to the next phase of the date, eh?” And with that they returned to his truck and drove home. Andy went straight to the den as Sam poured them each another glass of wine and carried it into the den.
Staring at the silent TV she asked “where’s the movie? Haven’t you picked one?”
“Who needs a movie?” he said as his smile approached a roguish grin. “It’s not really about the movie, is it?” and with that he patted the couch next to him. Sam placed their drinks on the table, sat quickly, and welcomed his embrace as he immediately leaned into their kiss, a long, soft, passionate one, their tongues renewing their growing acquaintance.
Drawing back, breathing a deep breath, Sam said quietly “Andy, we need to talk.” Andy feared the worst; the end of their date, next weekend’s plan for Julie cancelled.
“Ok,” he said, shakily, “talk”.
“Well, I think you’re learning your lessons very well, but there’s an essential one you need to learn.”
Puzzled, he replied “what lesson?”
“No.”
“No?” he replied, confused.
“Yes; you have to know that any girl is ok with what you want, you know, with what you’re…ummm…doing with her. You need to know if she doesn’t want it too.”
“Go on, how will I know?”
“If she says ‘no’, of course, but it’s probably more likely she’ll tell you in other ways.”
“Like how?”
“Well, let’s go back to the lesson and maybe I can show you. Let’s begin where we left off last night.” Andy had no trouble recalling their last few kisses, the wonder of his hands exploring her body, and began kissing her again. He kissed her neck, breathed in the intoxicating lemon scent of her hair, dropped his lips to the lovely hollow beneath her chin, and all the while let his hand caress her shoulder, then drift down her side, hungry for that curve he was learning so well. As his hand moved lower he felt her hand lightly and gently push his off her thigh. He immediately understood, moved his hand to her side, broke the kiss, and leaned back. “See,” she smiled, “you read the signal. You understood that I didn’t want you to go there.” As his disappointment registered on his face she laughed again; “don’t worry; sometimes it’s ok, sometimes it’s not. Tonight we’ll explore the difference,” and began another kiss.
And so it went as their kisses continued, their heat grew, his hands touched and caressed, and she occasionally cooled their ardour with gentle gestures, quiet messages sent, every one received and understood by Andy. As both enjoyed the lesson more and more Sam’s hands searched for new frontiers and, yes, new boundaries. As his hand gently cupped her breast he felt first her gasp, then heard her soft moan, then felt the almost hesitant press of her hand, directing his away. But not every time. Committed to the lesson, and recalling her assurance that “sometimes it’s ok” his hand returned to the breast. Hearing the quiet gasp, feeling her bury her face in his neck, feeling no restraining touch, he squeezed gently, fondled, brushed his thumb across her erect nipple, realizing to his shock that there was only one layer of cloth between his thumb and her flesh. “My god, he thought…no bra”. Then, as her moans increased and he heard an indistinct muttering from her, he finally felt the gentle pressure of her hand removing it. He laughed, kissed her, and whispered “lesson understood”.
There was no reply as she drew back and he noticed her high color for the first time. “I, uh, I think we need a short break, ok?”
“Sure, no problem,” but Andy avoided standing, suddenly aware of the obvious tent in his pants. As Sam left the room he sat back trying to think of anything that would reduce his erection. He thought of baseball scores, engineering problems, truck repairs, and finally was relieved to feel his softening.
For her part Sam had gone to the bathroom and was splashing cool water on her face. As she cooled down she looked hard at herself in the mirror and quickly repaired her mascara and lipstick, but at the same time looked herself directly in the eyes and asked herself “what was that about? How hot was that?” And dark thoughts, that leopard in the night, began to prowl through her mind. Shaking her head quickly, giving her hair a quick brush, she returned to the couch.
Both now felt the need to lower the temperature. Andy began with “so, umm, is Julie still, you know, up for this?”
“Huh? Oh - Julie - yes, she’s still up for it. I talked to her yesterday. She’s good to go. I have to say she sounded nervous, but definitely committed. She’s had this crush for a very long time, Andy, and she wants to deal with it one way or the other.”
“One way or the other?”
“Well, put it to bed, I guess” and laughed at her unintended pun. The sudden humor broke the spell and relieved them both. With that they returned to their lesson, but not before Sam said “it’s getting late; how long before Mom and Dad are back, do you think?”
Andy glanced at his watch and replied “I’m guessing an hour, maybe more” and with that their gaze locked for long seconds before he leaned in, placing his lips on her neck, feeling her crane her head back to encourage him. And from there the kisses became longer, more probing, the hands more and more exploring, the restraints fewer and fewer.
And then, almost imperceptibly, Sam seemed to begin relaxing her body even more slowly descending on the couch until her head was on a pillow. Andy quickly shifted to allow her to swing her legs onto the couch and with one final gaze at his reclining sister, repeated her movement as she pressed back against the couch. Both knew their lesson had, unspoken, risen to another level. The kisses continued but each felt their hands had more license as they drifted, caressed, mapped each other’s softness, hardness, and curves. Sam’s hand slipped unopposed beneath Andy’s shirts as she thrilled to her first caress of his abs. Andy’s hand caressed her hip and its curve, slipped down to her thigh; he knew instinctively that there would be no more ‘no’. As his hand caressed, the lightly squeezed her thigh, then slipped to her buttock, squeezed it, he listened to her soft moans, her soft “uuunnnhhh” as his caresses became more insistent.
As he gently slipped his hand beneath the hem of her dress her soft gasp encouraged him and as he slowly moved the hem up with his hand she pressed her face into his chest with “oh god…I…oh, yes”. That was all he needed as his hand reached its goal and his fingers lightly touched her panties for the first time, feeling the moist heat there, hearing her moans growing, her face pressing harder against him, her own hands wandering, one caressing his back, the other moving between them, finding his leg, moving up until she felt the unmistakable bulge of his erection.
Now it was Andy’s turn to gasp. “Oh, Jesus, he moaned, feeling the gentle squeeze of her fingers. Before he could say anything else she had shifted, the hem of her dress now almost waist high, her leg freed of all constraint, and lifted if over Andy’s, pressing her body forward, trapping his thigh between her own thighs. She pressed once, twice against him, and then, deep in one of their kisses, shifted again, rolling onto her back, pressing him with her hand on his back to roll with her. And fully sensitized to her restraining gestures by now, he fully realized her encouraging ones.
Sam was now on her back with Andy above her. Suspending himself above her for a few seconds their gaze again locked. He whispered the last question; “are you ok?” and her brief nod was the only reply he needed before she closed her eyes. For a minute or two he alternated between his supporting forearms so that the other hand could experience her body again. Finally, he crossed the last boundary as he bent his head down and places his lips carefully on one of her breasts, her erect nipple his easy and obvious target. As his lips closed on it, moistening the thin fabric that covered it, her entire body jerked beneath him, briefly lifting them both as she suddenly gasped “Oh! Oh god, that’s…ummm…Andy, that’s…amazing,” the last word almost guttural. He tenderly kissed the breast and closed his lips on her nipple as her body trembled again. He moved to her other breast and repeated his caresses with his lips, sucking lightly. By now her body was in constant movement, wracked with trembling that she couldn’t seem to control.
He lifted his lips off her breast, buried his face in her neck with kisses, buried it in her hair, and whispered into her ear “god, Sammy I love you. God, I really love you.” And with that her body convulsed, her legs and thighs separated, and she thrust her hips up against him. Once. Twice. Three times, by which time Andy’s lizard brain understood and accepted and returned her rhythm. Within seconds he was grinding his hips against hers, his rigid cock against her hot and moist vulva. Somewhere in that same part of his brain he thought “four layers of fabric between us, four think layers” and thought what he would do to remove those layers.
“Drew, oh my god, Drew,” she said, almost a shout, “uuuuhhhnn, yes…”. Sammy. Drew. Without realizing it they had reverted to their childhood nicknames, names that only they had used for each other. And as she uttered her childhood name for her brother and as she felt the shock of her mounting pleasure rocketing through her body, she felt something else, something she’d never felt in her life. She felt power. She felt the raw, overwhelming sexual power that she held over Andy, how her new power created his need, fed it, and would satisfy it.
All words banished, they were communicating now with moans, gasps, guttural sounds, as their rhythm increased, their thrusts coming harder and harder, their arms holding each other tighter and tighter, each burying their face in the other’s neck. She drew each knee up, creating the softest valley Andy had ever been in, its walls her warm thighs, squeezing him as he thrust against her. Words abandoned her until finally she managed “don’t stop, Drew, god, don’t you dare stop” before suddenly she froze, her body arched and lifting them both from the couch, before it was convulsed with her orgasm, shaking her body from head to toe, her legs instinctively wrapping him in an inescapable prison of euphoric pleasure, before collapsing back onto the couch as the second and then third waves of her climax rushed through her. Andy, shocked by her orgasm and then realizing the pleasure he’d given his sister, resumed his thrusts to her soft laughter, her “god, no, Andy, I can’t take any more” before he, too, suddenly reached his climax, stiffened, and thrust one last time as his cock shot jet after jet of his cum into his briefs.
Awash in the echoes of their pleasure, their bodies now as soft and pliable as they had been rigid, they lay quietly in each other’s arms, each occasionally giving light kisses to the other, each looking deep into the other’s eyes. “Sammy, that was fantas…”
“NO!” Sam cut him off. “Drew (her childhood affection for her brother persisted) it was…it was…it was too much. It was more than we should have done. You’re my brother. I’m your sister, Drew; we can’t go there.” Andy caught her emphasis and lay quietly with her, swept with a sudden feeling of…regret? No, of loss, of realizing that they had crossed a boundary that they would never cross again. That the strange mixture of feelings that he had just felt for the first time in his life, a mixture of need, of love, of affection, of…yes, of lust would never be felt again. Not until, at least he had sex with someone he had fallen in love with, someone to whom he could truly make love.
“We, ummm, we need to talk, then” he said, barely above a whisper.
“Yes, obviously, big brother, but not tonight. Not tonight. Tomorrow? Mom and Dad will be home any minute and…” she sniffed, “this place reeks of sex. We have to move quickly.” Sam’s practicality galvanized them both and with that Andy sprung off the couch, opened the window to let the summer breeze in, raced to the kitchen and found some air freshener and gave the den a quick spray. “Good idea, bro; if Mom or Dad ask I’ll simply tell them Andy farted. They’ll believe that for sure. And I think it’s bed time, don’t you?”
With a last parting kiss they headed up to their bedrooms, Sam demurely straightening her dress, smoothing it and pressing the hem back to its intended height. Andy felt the wetness in his shorts and realized he was going to have to arrange an Andy-only laundry the next day.
Despite their mutual pleasure, despite each having had their first orgasm caused by another, neither slept quickly. As with the evening before Andy strained his ears and was certain he heard soft moans coming from Sam’s room as she first touched herself lightly, then stroked herself, then fondled, then slowly inserted her index finger in her wet, hot, holy place all the while her mind racing with thoughts of “what am I doing, why am I doing this? Where is this going?” and “what’s wrong with me? I love him, but he’s my brother.”
Andy, knowing nothing of Sam’s thoughts, simply dug his head back into his pillow as he stroked his rigid member, recalling the unprecedented pleasure he felt as, pressing his cock hard against Sam, his body had been rocked with the greatest orgasm he had ever felt, his greedy ears absorbing the soft moans in the next room, his second orgasm following quickly on his stroking.
And with that both Sam and Andy fell into their separate, fitful sleeps.
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