After the generally positive response to my last submission to Literotica, where I told you all about the first time my sister milked me, I have been thinking about the next chapter that I should tell you all about. This Saturday, I was alone in my bed (as I write this on Saturday afternoon, my sister is coming round this evening for a meal out in a local restaurant and some fucking after, obviously) so I had an opportunity to think about what to write. I came to the conclusion that I should tell you all about the first time we actually fucked. So here goes. I hope you enjoy it. It is a bit longer than my previous ones but I wanted to give the tale of our first fuck the justice I feel it deserves.
After that first wanking by my seductive sister, we carried on meeting for the next few weeks . This mainly entailed catching up on a Monday for lunch, both of us escaping from our offices for a quick meal. She stuck to her word and always turned up in stockings, suspenders and invariably a rather short skirt. With limited time, we would enjoy our meal (GBK, pizza express etc) and then quickly head to a stairwell in Canary Wharf (close to the DLR station) for a quick tease. My sister would stand on the step up from me and rub her stocking clad leg into my crotch, the pair of us kissing deeply. I could only take so much before we would have to break and go our separate ways and return to work, though I often left with a tale-tell damp spot on my suit from my pre-cum. We also continued to meet up on a Friday night. Now I know you are wondering why we didn’t go to the next incestuous level and actually fuck? Well, as I said in my last submission, I was going through a divorce and so would have been awkward for me to not return home of a night. Plus, handjobs were one thing. To actually move to fucking was a big step for both of us (don’t get me wrong, we both wanted it but knew the significance of what it would mean).
Finally we agreed that the best way to fulfil our desires was to go away for a weekend. By this time we had both realised that we loved my Sis showing off her stockings tops out in public. I loved the thrill of being with a woman showing so clearly that she was wearing sexy underwear. We thought to add extra spice by actually booking a weekend away as brother and sister and she suggested we book a weekend cookery course. This turned me on no end. We both love cooking and the idea of us having a weekend away with other people added an extra tease. We rang the cookery school and booked two rooms. I spoke to reception first to book my room and then told the young lady on the other end that I would pass the phone to my sister to book hers. I got a kick doing this as my other hand felt my sister’s stocking straps through her skirt. Having finally booked, we now just had to wait for the fateful weekend to arrive…
I sat in the coffee shop at the station, waiting for Sis to arrive. I didn’t know what she would be wearing but she did say I would love it. I only had a couple of more minutes waiting before Sis walked in. I exhaled involuntarily as she strutted towards me. On her feet was a brand new pair of white stilettos (I love patent high heels), her legs encased in black nylon, around her hips swayed a short white skirt, a belt cinched her waist whilst the look was complete with a white top. Bloody hell, she looked stunning, wearing all the things I loved. The white outfit contrasting with the dark stockings was just perfect in my eyes. Of course, I still had to check on the colour of her suspender belt but I would do that the first opportunity I got.
“Pick your jaw up, Bro! I guess you like?” She propped up her wheelie case and did a little pirouette. Her short skirt flared out and gave me a clear glimpse of the intricate pattern at the top of her stockings. She had excelled herself.
“I love it. You look magnificent. Want a coffee?”
“No, I checked the boards and we can get on the train. Besides, you’ve brought champagne…you did remember, right?”
I smiled. She had promised to wear a sexy new outfit if I brought the champagne for the train journey. “Of course.”
I gathered my stuff and deliberately dropped a couple of metres behind so as to let my sister lead the way to the platform. This afforded me the chance to admire just how daring she had been. Each step prompted that white skirt to sway, revealing those stocking tops. I suspected it wouldn’t take much to get those stockings a little lower so that I could glimpse the creamy flesh of my sister’s thighs above those stocking tops. I looked around and saw a few ogling glances from men, disapproving looks from women. I caught my sister up as we got to our platform. “We are near the back of the train.” I said.
We found our carriage and my sister lifted her case onto the train before stepping up. She is quite short and so took a big step. Bingo. I was treated to a little show of flesh. This really was going to be a great weekend and it really felt as though we were going away for a dirty weekend, albeit an incestuous one. We found our seats, I handed my sister the plastic bag with the champagne and two plastic glasses and put our luggage in the rack above our head.
We soon settled down and it wasn’t long before the train pulled away (on time!). Once the train was moving, I leaned in and whispered, “You really do look fantastic. I love the white skirt.”
“I bet you do!” She smirked before putting her hand behind my head and pulling it the last few inches so our lips met and we kissed hard. My hand instinctively went to her thigh, felt the smooth stocking and stroked upwards. My sister pulled away “Tut, tut, not yet!” She playfully slapped my hand away. Having teased me visually getting to the train, she now wanted to tease my physically. Well, we had all weekend, I could wait (in all honesty, the teasing only served to heighten my burgeoning arousal).
“Well let’s drink to our weekend.” I reached for the champagne, removed the foil and grabbed the cork. The carriage promptly rang with the pop of the cork and I filled both our glasses.
“A toast. To you and me having a very special weekend”. We both knew what the emphasis my sister put on the word ‘special’ meant. “I’ll drink to that,” then a little quieter, “my naughty sister.” We clinked glasses and drank. We continued to drink as the journey made its way to the South West of England. At every opportunity, my hand strayed thigh wards, always to be met with a “cheeky!”, “Easy!” or a “Tut, tut.” If there was one thing I had learnt since that first fateful pub encounter, it was that my Sis knew exactly how to tease me to the point of complete and utter distraction. I was already filled with lust and that was exactly her intention by wearing such an outfit and denying me the pleasure of feeling her flesh.
Once we arrived at the station, it was a simple matter to walk to the cab rank and get a taxi to the cookery school accommodation. As my sister strutted her stuff to the first available cab, I could almost sense the eyes of each of the cab drivers glued to the titillating sway of her white skirt. I doubt they often saw such provocative displays on a late summer’s afternoon. Sitting on the train for so long had definitely forced my sister’s stockings to slip and the lacy tops were on constant display. I loved the look and the attention she was getting. The taxi driver couldn’t wait to get out the car to help my sister with her case, though I think he made an error as I quickly imagined her in my mind bending over the boot of his car to put the case in the back and the view that would have afforded the whole rank. Still, he got an eyeful as he opened the side door and my sister slid into the back seat. Her skirt rose and sure enough, stocking top, suspender strap and white thigh were displayed. It wasn’t just her brother she was now teasing with this show!