By Alfie Atkins
Marisa sat behind her sister Ebonie, drawing the soft brush through her long, light brown hair. The hair was baby-soft, and smelt deliciously of floral shampoo. Marisa loved to brush Ebonie’s hair. It was always so clean and shiny, so easy to brush, and it always had such a delightful skin-and-soap scent that really was like nothing else.
Ebonie always appreciated Marisa’s ministrations. Whether Marisa was showing Ebonie how to apply make-up, do her hair in a top-knot, clip up a halter neck top without tying her limbs in a knot — or brushing her hair, as she was now, the younger girl always listened intently and followed her sister’s instructions thoroughly. Ebonie was in awe of her elder sister, and Marisa was secretly thrilled with the adulation.
Just recently, Marisa had been spending a lot more time with Ebonie. Before, she would have spent every waking moment with Carlie, but Carlie had been ‘out’ an awful lot lately. Marisa was slightly confused by her older sibling’s sudden lack of appearance, and her slightly standoffish attitude when she was there.
One night when Carlie wasn’t staying out, Marisa crept into her big sister’s bed — but although Marisa sat so close to Carlie that she was almost atop her, wishing with every fibre of her being for her lovely sister to plant a steamy kiss on her lips, or reach under the covers to slide Marisa’s nightie up her thighs and draw her cotton knickers down, it never happened.
Marisa would sit next to Carlie, talk about boys and girls and life — aand as she talked, she would be aware of her pussy growing wetter and wetter and wetter. She so wanted to reach out, grab her sister’s hand and place it between her thighs, as they’d both done to one another on that fateful night, which had happened weeks ago.
Nothing had happened between them since that night, and they hadn’t discussed it. Marisa desperately wanted to broach the subject, but she was afraid that if she did, Carlie would tell her that what they’d done was a mistake. Or worse, deny anything had taken place between them at all.
Somehow, the power that had once been Marisa’s was now Carlie’s. The older girl had cruelly aroused Marisa’s passions, taken her to undreamt of levels of ecstasy, and now she was acting as if nothing at all had taken place between them. Marisa should have been angry, but she couldn’t be. She was totally and utterly infatuated with Carlie, sick and wrong as it seemed, and she could neither stop that or reverse it. Nor did she want to.
But Carlie was being infuriatingly aloof. Marisa suspected it might be one of the morbid games her big sister loved to play. On the other hand, if it wasn’t a game, what kind of a future did they have? How would this affect their relationship as sisters? Carlie would be living at home for at least another two years, probably, and Marisa didn’t think she could cope for that long, not with all of the latent passions and secret lust that would ensue.
As she continued to brush Ebonie’s hair in a trance-like state, Marisa reflected on the love that had passed between herself and Carlie on that special, wonderful night. Carlie had been fantastic, perfect, brilliant, more than Marisa could have ever hoped or dreamed for. Her touch was so juvenile, yet so expert. Her body, her reactions, her pledge of love had been so wonderful and magical that Marisa had felt transported to the stars.
As they had slept in each other’s arms, Marisa had dreamed of the life they would share together. People would accept their love in the end, if they saw how true, deep, and meaningful it was. They would get a flat together, spend each and every night in each others’ arms without feeling guilty or dirty or ashamed, and the lovemaking would only get better and better as they got older, if that was possible.
And yes, Marisa knew it was a wild fantasy that could never come true, yet at the same time, she wanted it so badly, and with such a passion, that she almost believed, if she wished for it hard enough, that her wish would come true. As she lay in those warm arms, feeling wanted, cherished, loved, she felt that nothing would ever match up to that precious moment.
But morning had to come. As the day dawned in, the sky red and vivid, Carlie shook Marisa softly from her dream world, and with a tender kiss, guided her back to her own bed.
After that night, Carlie hadn’t completely ignored Marisa, but she’d been distant, withdrawn, even slightly edgy in her younger sister’s company. Marisa had looked at Carlie with pleading eyes, but Carlie had merely ignored her.
And recently, Carlie had made sure to drop in plenty of anecdotes, during their late-night chats, of things she’d done with boys. Marisa didn’t want to hear about things like that any longer — she wanted Carlie all to herself. Still, she could not deny the lust that coursed through her when Carlie described the simplest of kisses or touches she had exchanged with a boy.
When Marisa returned to her own bed, she would lift her nightie and slide a hand into her knickers, rubbing her heated cleft almost desperately as she imagined Carlie’s tongue, lips and hands on her pliant body. As she came, her juices wetting her hand, Marisa would moan and whisper, “Oh, Carlie,” into the close air.
Later, as she slept, she would dream of those soft eyes smiling down at her, brown tresses brushing over her body, making her nipples pucker erect — while Carlie just grinned and repeatedly denied her what she wanted.
As Marisa would beg in her dreams for Carlie to set her free, Carlie would pout and grin — and suddenly, violently, she would run a hand down Marisa’s body, scraping with her fingernails along the way, then she would part the pouting lips of her pussy, slapping and rubbing the hot little clit, bringing Marisa off.
But when Marisa awoke, her knickers damp, she would sigh into the empty space and silently beg her sister to join her. But she was alone.
*****
Today was one of the rare occasions that Carlie was at home. She was no doubt downstairs talking to their parents, although Marisa longed for her to be up in the bedroom with them. She was sure she would not be as interested in Ebonie’s hair if she was. As she stroked the brush through Ebonie’s hair for the last time, she noticed it was full of loose hairs.
“There you are, kiddo,” Marisa said, exhaling a sigh. “All done. I’m just gonna clean this brush out, okay?” Ebonie nodded, and Marisa headed for the bathroom.
Opening the bathroom door, Marisa realised that the shower stall was clouded with steam. Silly Ebonie, probably forgot to turn it off again, Marisa told herself, and opened the stall doors to turn off the shower.
Carlie’s gleaming wet, naked body stared back at Marisa, and it was as perfect as she remembered. The rose-coloured nipples were pleasingly puckered, covered with soapsuds. The narrow thighs were glistening with soap and water droplets; the butt, high, rounded, and temptingly full, was half-tuned toward her, and it looked so inviting, Marisa wanted to pull it to her and suck on the shiny cheeks, biting and nipping, running her tongue down the crack. The dark bush of Carlie’s pussy, damp and inviting, looked so ready to be opened and explored, that Marisa had to physically force herself not to reach out and touch it.
Carlie turned toward Marisa in shock, but her hands did not try to cover her body in self defence, and a small smile hung on her lips. “Oh, Marisa, I thought you were someone else,” Carlie cried, then giggled softly. As she did so, she dropped the soap to the floor of the stall. “Oops,” Carlie giggled. “I seem to have dropped my soap. Excuse me.” And with that, Carlie bent down to pick up the soap. As she did so, she bent over so far that her butt cheeks opened wide, affording Marisa a splendid view of her tight little butthole, and the cleft of an open and water-wetted pussy.
Marisa’s pussy responded accordingly. Her heart began to pound, low and heavy, in her chest, and she felt the dampness begin to seep from her vaginal opening. She so wanted to lean forward and lick that sexy little crack, plunging her tongue deep in the forbidden hole, then slurping wetly down to prod at the other opening, that she almost did it, regardless of the hassle it might cause. Instead, she called on all of her willpower to refrain from doing so, and watched as Carlie slowly straightened up, arching her long back.
Marisa watched, mute, as Carlie began to soap her delightful breasts, rubbing the soap bar round and round her tempting little nipples, her eyes half closed in ecstasy. Then she slowly slid the soap down her body, right to the top of her bush, then stopped abruptly.
“Marisa,” she cooed, in a low, sexy and intimate voice, just for her. “I know you want to touch me… just as I know that all of these long nights you have wanted me to make love to you again. But I had to be sure that you meant what you said, that you truly wanted to be my lover.”
“I do, Carlie,” the younger girl whispered.
“I know that, Marisa… and I’m going to let you have what you want. Soon.”
Marisa thought she was hearing things. So Carlie did still want her. All of the teasing, all of the pain of the last few weeks, nothing mattered as it dawned on her what her sister was saying. She still wanted her, and that was good enough for her. And by God, did Marisa ever want Carlie. She wanted her so much that her cunt was throbbing with violent pulse-beats, and she was almost dripping with wetness. But ‘soon’? What did she mean? Was she going to make her wait even longer?
Marisa watched in a trance-like state as Carlie began to rub the soap in light circular motions over her pussy, her hand descending ever so slightly lower with each motion. As she came to almost clit level, Carlie paused, smiling at her confused and aroused sister. “Lock the door, Marisa,” she breathed.
Eagerly, Marisa did her bidding, and when she turned back to her sister, Carlie was beckoning at her with both hands to join her in the shower.
“I can’t, Carlie,” she said, every word an effort. She was so aroused that she could hardly speak. “Ebonie is in the bedroom. She will wonder where I am.” Even as she spoke, Marisa knew that she could easily get in that shower with Carlie, even if there was a possibility of getting caught.
Carlie grinned and said, “Good. You haven’t totally lost your head, then. If you and I are going to be together, I need to trust you to be careful. Maybe soon we won’t have to worry, but at the moment… If you like, you can wash my pussy for me instead.”
‘Like’ did not come close to describing how much Marisa wanted to wash that sweet little cunt. Slowly, Marisa pushed away from the wall and went to her sister. With a small laugh, Carlie squeezed the soap out of her grip, and it plopped into Marisa’s eager hand.
Gently and carefully, but with growing arousal, Marisa began to lightly rub at Carlie’s mound with the bar of soap. As soon as she had started, Carlie impatiently grabbed Marisa’s hand and forced her pussy open with the soap.
“You don’t have to be so gentle,” Carlie croaked. “Rub harder, slip the soap right in.”
Marisa complied, parting Carlie’s slit with her free hand, while the other used the soap to rub roughly at her pussy. Marisa ran the bar up and down the cleft, all the way up and down, sliding from clit to hole, pressing with force into the clit with each stroke.
Carlie’s legs began to tremble, and she threw her head back, her eyes half shut, the long wet hair trailing down. Her top teeth nipped at her glistening underlip in ecstasy, and she began to pump her hips, pressing her pussy harder and harder against the soap and the hand.
Carlie suddenly pulled Marisa towards her, and a wet hand went out to roughly rub at her cunt through her tight jeans. The seam of the jeans pressed into Marisa’s pussy, and the rough texture of the seam was incredibly arousing.
As her legs buckled with the onset of a sudden and intense orgasm, the soap dropped from Marisa’s hands and fell to the floor unheeded.
Marisa’s soap-slippery fingers worked their way easily into Carlie’s pussy, one, two, then three, jabbing in and out, while her thumb pounded at her big sister’s clit, rubbing it side to side and round and round, making Carlie whimper in orgasm.
As Carlie found Marisa’s clit through her jeans, so hard and protruding that it could be felt even through the denim material, she began to rub hard at the protuberance.
Suddenly both girls began to climax. Carlie rubbed her pussy violently against the exploring hand, then cried out softly as her juices mingled with the water and soaked Marisa’s hand — while a trembling Marisa bit her lip as an orgasm flooded through her, her cunt pounding and pounding, the pulse beat in overload, making her head spin with the dizzying pleasure of it. Her own flood was unseen and not felt by Carlie, but Marisa could feel how heavy and wet her knickers were as it engulfed her.
The pounding within both girls slowly subsided. Marisa could not stop her legs from trembling, and she had to hold on to the shower stall door to keep herself upright. Carlie, a look of amazement and happiness on her face, laughed softly, and whispered, “Oh, boy,” before winking at Marisa, and starting to close the shower stall.
This time, Marisa wasn’t offended this time — she knew the score, knew what Carlie was trying to say. Silently, although her legs still trembled, she turned to the sink and began to empty the hairs out of the brush. The whole episode had lasted mere seconds.
They would not be discovered. And it was amazingly arousing to have this sexy secret between herself and Carlie. Marisa did not feel the need to change anything for the moment. Her brain buzzed with happiness and the afterglow of orgasm, and her rosy cheeks and twinkling eyes could not hide the delight her sister had evoked in her.
As Marisa turned to quietly leave the bathroom, she glanced one more time over to the cloudy shower stall and saw Carlie bending to pick up the soap. She grinned to herself, and reflected that this had felt just as good as that first time, probably even better. And shutting the door behind her, Marisa knew she did not need to worry. There’s plenty more where that came from.
The End