Copyright  2001,   Clayton.  ALL Rights Reserved


Story_codes: mg

Story_intro: On a dark and stormy night little sister slips into big brother's bed.  Soon 
big brother will be slipping into little sis.




Clayton's Kids - Cuddlesome Sister     By Clayton

Copyright (c) Clayton 2001.

Disclaimer:
   This is a work of pure fiction.  No illegal activity
   described herein was carried out, this document details
   fantasies that took place late at night when I was alone
   in bed. I firmly believe that no fifteen minutes of
   pleasure is worth the innocence of a child.  Besides, I
   derive much pleasure from the company of children, playing
   with them or simply watching them at play, I am not going
   to risk this for any momentarily heightened sense of
   pleasure.

   If you are under the age of eighteen the law says I've got
   to tell you to go away, so, "Go away!"  Common sense says
   you're going to ignore me, so don't blame me if you go
   blind, your parents find you in possession of this document
   or your cum causes your space bar to stop working.

   If this type of material is illegal in your city, state,
   country, then see above, substituting "law enforcement
   agency" in place of "parents".

   If you're a member of the moral minority, religious right,
   or any other such control group then read on, my aim is to
   offend you as much as possible.  People like you who would
   force others to fit your narrow minded little world views
   are a blight upon the landscape.  My personal philosophy is
   that of "Rational Anarchy" ie. anyone should feel free to
   do and think as they please such that their actions do not
   adversely impact on the lives of others.

<clayton@nym.alias.net>


Clayton's Children - Cuddlesome Sister - Part 1


	It was a dark and stormy night.  Yeah I know.  Trite, very trite, but also true.

	The whole house seems to shake with the force of the storm that rages outside.  Rain 
drums thunderously on the roof, while outside the trees thrash about in the near gale force 
winds that are the legacy of tropical cyclone Ida spending her final energies on the nearby 
coast.

	Kept awake by the noise of the storm, I lay there in the dark listening to the 
sounds of nature's fury, awed by the sheer power of it.  Occasionally I hear the sound of a 
distant tree branch giving way before the onslaught with a tearing crackle.  It is 
exhilarating, but also a little frightening too, knowing that the bedroom next to mine lay 
empty.

	For the first time in my nearly fourteen years, there were no parents on the other 
side of that wall.  There had been many times when they were both gone during the days, 
indeed today had been one of them.  However, they always were home within a few hours of 
darkness falling.  Tonight was the first time they had not returned.

	They had left early in the morning: Dad to work as he did on most days; and Mum to 
do the month's shopping, pay the bills and visit the hairdresser.  That morning, Ida was 
well out to sea and moving away from us, but within two hours of my parents leaving she had 
swung around with frightening speed and struck the coast.  And when she hit, her sudden 
meeting with the land caused her to dump more than an old style foot of rain in less than an 
hour.  Flash floods filled dry creek beds and cut roads all over the district, including the 
one that was our only link with town.

	The telephone barely lasted long enough for Mum to inform me of the painfully 
obvious fact that they would not be home for at least twenty four hours.  She worried like 
mothers do, and I heard Dad in the background saying that we were far enough back from the 
coast to avoid the worst of the winds, and on high enough ground to avoid any flooding, even 
if the house wasn't already more than two metres above the ground.  Then right in the middle 
of her telling me to take care, there was a sudden crackle and the line went dead.

	Now it was two in the morning and finally it seemed that the power of the storm 
outside was beginning to wane.  However it did not let go without one final burst of fury.  
I hear the crackle of a tree branch giving way only metres from the house followed 
immediately by the crash of breaking glass.

	Almost on top of it came the sound of my nine year old baby sister crying out in 
sudden terror.  For several seconds I was frozen by the sound, and that was long enough for 
her to appear in my bedroom doorway before I could scramble out of bed to go to her.  Light 
stings my dark adjusted eyes as she turns on the light.  At least we still had power as long 
as the batteries held out.

	"My window's broken Geoff." she says looking scared.

	"Are you O.K.?" I ask.

	"Uh-huh." she replies, "It just scared me a lot."

	"Me too." I say, "But you're O.K. and that's the main thing.  I guess I better go 
and see what I can do about it."

	"Like what?" she asks, "My bed's probably already soaking wet, and my light's broken 
too so you can't see."

	That was true enough.  My sister's bedroom was a tiny little box formed by closing 
off one corner of the verandah next to out parent's room.  I guess it was originally a 
baby's nursery, but whatever it's use, there was no room for anything except for her bed, 
and a wardrobe.  With her bed under the now broken window it was now almost certainly 
saturated by the rain, and I didn't really relish the idea of fumbling around in bad light 
with broken glass all over the place.

	"I supposed you'd better go and sleep in Mum and Dad's bed then." I tell her.

	"I'm scared." she replies, "Can I come in your bed with you?"

	"I suppose." I reply forgetting for a moment that I'm naked beneath the covers.

	By the time I do remember it's too late. She's switched out the light and raced 
across the floor to wriggle in beside me.  When I do recall my nakedness, I'm too 
embarrassed to say anything.  So instead of speaking up, I hastily back away to the far side 
of the bed, to wait until she has fallen asleep so I can slip out of bed to put something on 
then.

	The next thing I remember is waking up cuddled up spoon fashion against my sister's 
back.  She had my right arm pinned beneath her head using it as a pillow, and my left was 
drawn across her body and she was holding it against her ribs.  Her pyjama clad bottom 
nestled snugly into my belly, with my hard prick nuzzled into the crease of her arse, with 
only the very thin cotton of her PJ's between us.

	For a moment, I just lie there relishing the sensation of having my bare prick 
pressed up against another person for the first time in my life, but then I remember that 
the other person is my nine year old baby sister and I'm disgusted with myself.  
Fortunately, Cindy appeared to be fast asleep and unaware of my pressing against her in such 
an lewd fashion.  I carefully attempt to extricate myself from my predicament and I even 
manage to pull my hips back far enough that we are no longer in contact down there, but when 
I try to recover my arms, she mutters discontentedly in her sleep and tightens her grip 
while wriggling backwards until we are once more in contact along the full length of our 
bodies.

	As she snuggles into me, she pulls my hand a little higher on her chest and I feel a 
soft little mound press into my palm, separated from it only by the summer weight cotton of 
her pyjama top.  At the same time I felt the head of my super stiff prick slide up *inside* 
the loose leg opening of her bottoms and come into contact with the bare skin of her skinny 
little rump.

	"Oh shit!" I can't help muttering softly as she continues to wriggle around until 
she has my dick once again nestled into her bum crack as it had been a few moments earlier.  
Only this time it is in direct skin to skin contact.  The feeling is exquisite, nothing in 
my experience can compare to the sensation of having my hot, throbbing prick pressed firmly 
against the comparative coolness of the bare skin of her soft young backside and the feel of 
the little flat cone of her just budding titty pressing into my palm.

	Having made herself comfortable again, she lets out a contented little sigh and 
falls into a deeper sleep, leaving me concentrating desperately on not spewing great 
steaming globs of thick creamy spunk over her nine year old arse.  Frantically, I tell 
myself that this is my little baby sister; that it's my duty as her big brother to protect 
her from things like this and slowly, much too slowly, I feel the sick desire to jam my 
precum leaking prick up between her legs and tear away her innocence fade away.

	Again I try to pull away, but once more she mutters in her sleep and follows.  This 
time the head of my prick catches on the crease between her buttock and the top of her leg 
and lubricated by my leaking precum, starts to push into the narrow gap between the tops of 
her skinny thighs.  A tiny, frantically screaming part of my mind tells me to pull away, to 
jerk free even if it means waking her, but it's drowned out by my newly awakened thirteen 
year old hormones, driving all thoughts of any future consequences from my mind.

	As she wriggles back towards me, I push forwards, forcing my stiff prick into the 
narrow gap between her legs and I feel the satiny smoothness of her plump hairless pussy 
lips pass over the thick rubbery head of my cock.  My forward motion is not entirely smooth 
though, because although partially moistened by my precum, my glans is still dry enough that 
it drags a little as it makes its way into the gap.

	She seems to sense the slight juddering and I freeze as her muttering becomes more 
pronounced, however, she does not stop pushing back towards me.  My cock continues to slip 
haltingly between her legs for a moment longer, and then jerks forward the last few 
centimetres in a rush when she lifts her upper leg slightly.  A moment later she lets it 
back down, trapping me firmly between her thighs.  She wriggles for a second or two longer, 
sending delicious electric tingles shooting up from my cock, and then subsides with a soft 
murmur.

	Again I fight down a compelling desire to empty my balls, this time all over my baby 
sister's exquisitely soft little pussy.  Pulled upwards by tension, my cock sinks slightly 
into her pussy crack, throbbing with a hunger that far surpasses anything I'd ever felt 
while jerking off to the glossy images of big breasted babes in Picture magazine.  As I hold 
completely still, hardly daring to breathe, the urgent need to expel my seed slowly 
subsides.

	Then still motionless, I begin to take stock of my situation.  I know it's wrong, 
that I should somehow, anyhow, pull away from my sister before it goes any further, but 
newly awakened adolescent hungers far outweigh almost anything else.  I tell myself that I'm 
not actually fucking her; that I'm not hurting her; that she will never know what I am doing 
to her now.  I tell myself that I will only savour these wonderful feelings for a few 
moments longer to fix them in my mind forever.  I even blame my parents for choosing to live 
way out here in the sticks, depriving me of the female companionship that is every teenaged 
boy's right.

	Gently, so as not to wake her, I move my left hand in small circles, trying to scope 
out the little breast beneath it.  It stands out maybe a centimetre from her chest, and is 
perhaps not quite the width of my palm in across.  Suddenly it struck me that my little 
sister had titties.  Tiny ones to be sure, but nonetheless real honest to goodness titties.  
How the hell had I managed to miss seeing them begin to sprout?  Hell, only two days before 
I'd accidentally walked in on her in the bathroom and not noticed a thing even though she'd 
only been wearing a pair of knickers.  She'd stood there with her hands on her hips and 
yelled at me for not knocking, all the while with her narrow little chest on display.  
Slowly it began to dawn on me that while I might not have been aware of them, she *had* been 
trying to bring them to my obviously dim witted attention.

	As I gently rub her little boob, I noticed it begin to change shape beneath my hand, 
the centre hardening and pushing up into the middle of my palm.  She murmurs a little in her 
sleep and I freeze, my heart thudding away at a million miles an hour at the thought of her 
waking up and feeling my hand on her breast, even if her own hand was holding me there.  She 
soon becomes quiet again, and I feel a slight increase in pressure on the back of my hand 
making me realise that while she might not be consciously aware of me, her body is liking 
what it feels and wants more.

	I resume my gentle palming of her little breast and feel her grip relax fractionally 
as she lets out a sigh that is little more than a gently susurrating exhalation.  Realising 
that so long as I am careful, almost anything I do will be incorporated into her dreams 
without waking her.  I become a little more daring.  Still gently, but with more assurance, 
I explore the little tit beneath my hand, widening my circling until the hard little nub in 
the centre starts catching in the grooves between my fingers for a moment before slipping 
into the next with a little jerk.

	She lets out a faint gasp, and her fingers clenched briefly on mine before relaxing 
and this time I barely pause before resuming.  Slowly I work my hand downward until the 
little nub lies beneath my fingertips.  I carefully feel it over, moving it in tiny circles 
for a few moments and then gently pinching it between my thumb and forefinger.  Again her 
breath came in a little explosion, and her hand tightens on mine, but there is no other 
indication that she might be stirring.

	This time I didn't even pause in my explorations.  I gently palpitate the firm 
little bud and its surroundings, feeling how it stands out like a rubbery pea in the middle 
of an area that is slightly raised above her conical mound and that seems, even beneath the 
cotton of her top. slightly rougher than the surrounding skin.

	As I continue to manipulate her tiny nipple, I notice the tempo of her breathing 
changing slightly, becoming a little faster.  The hand holding mine in place slowly relaxes 
its grip, as if now that I am playing with her little tit freely, it no longer had to hold 
me there, and finally it falls to the mattress with a soft thud.  I tease the little nipple 
for a few moments longer and then slide my hand upward to the other side of her chest to 
investigate its partner.  somewhat to my surprise, I discover that the little boob on this 
side is only about two thirds the size of the other, but for all their difference in sizes 
it is just as responsive.  Her tiny nipple almost seems to pop up between my fingertips, as 
eager to feel them pinch and tug on it.

	I become aware of her heart beating beneath the soft pad of flesh under my fingers, 
a gentle lub-dub a little faster than the ticking of the clock beside my bed.  The sweet 
apple fragrance of her shampoo fills my nostrils as I slide my hand back down and across her 
chest.  Halfway between her little mounds my fingers become caught between two of the 
buttons holding her top closed and I pause.  Dare I?

	I fumble with one of the buttons, popping it out of its hole and now there is a gap 
large enough to slip my hand inside.  Inside her top to touch the bare flesh of her newly 
grown titties.  I continue on my interrupted journey only to come up against her hand which 
lightly squeezes and fondles her breast through the fabric of her top.  I return to the 
other side, and gently tease her bare little boob, running my fingertip in a tight circle 
around her nipple over the pimpled surface of areola.

	Barely audible mewls of pleasure come from her lips as we each caress a soft little 
titty mound with our finger.  I don't know how long I fondle my baby sister's blossoming 
breast, but slowly I become aware of a damp warmth along the top of my cock shaft where it 
nestle along the length of her tight young pussy crease and though I continue to play with 
her stiff little nipple, my attention now centres between my legs and hers.

	I carefully pull my hips back a little, drawing my cockshaft back until I feel the 
loose skin surrounding it begin to pull.  I pause for a moment and then push back into her 
until her bottom presses into my stomach again.  Slowly at first, I fuck back and forth 
between her firmly gripping thighs, gradually increasing the tempo of my thrusts until I am 
pushing between her legs on one tick of the clock and pulling back at the next.

	With every thrust of my hips, the head of my cock presses into the front of her 
pyjama bottoms from the inside, rubbing deliciously against the soft fabric, while along the 
top of my shaft I feel the dampness and heat emanating from her little pussy increasing as 
my back and forth motion works me deeper and deeper into her crease.  After about a minute 
or so, I notice that every time I pull back, the flaring rim of my cock catches slightly on 
a little protrusion near the front of her slit, and that each time it does so, a sharp chuff 
of air is driven from her lungs.

	Deep inside, I know that I should not be doing this, but each time I think of 
stopping, I tell myself: just a little longer, just a few seconds more and then I will stop.  
And each time I tell myself this, I know it for a lie.  Little sister or not, the sensations 
coming from my thrusting prick are just too good to be ignored or abandoned.

	As I continue to fuck her legs, the dampness of her little pussy becoming 
increasingly pronounced, both along the top of my prick and also down its sides.  Little by 
little my strokes between her tightly clamped thighs lengthen as her pussy juices become 
smeared along my cock shaft and between her legs.  And as she becomes wetter she begins 
moving her skinny little girl hips back and forth in counterpoint to mine, almost losing me 
until I catch on and compensate by shortening the length of my own strokes slightly.

	"MMmmm, so good." Hearing actual coherent words from her shocks me into immobility, 
but it quickly becomes apparent that she hasn't actually woken up.  Her hips continue to 
work against my frozen ones, and her words are slurred, her sentences broken. "N' d'n st'p.  
Do 't mrr.  'b m' c'nny bum'." I start moving again and she cries out softly with pleasure.

	The space between her tightly clenched thighs is rapidly becoming a hot steamy 
swamp.  So wet that the passage of my prick between her legs makes a sticky wet sound like 
squeezing a handful of wet soap.  Again, dare I?  I just have to feel it.  I slide my hand 
from her top and work it down the row of buttons holding it closed, unfastening each as I 
pass until only a single button at her throat holds it closed.

	For some reason, I don't go straight for the crotch as I almost certainly would have 
if she'd been awake.  Possibly a part of it might have been fear of waking her, it had been 
earlier, but I was now so caught up in what I was doing that I hardly cared any more.  A 
stronger possibility was that with her sleeping, I didn't have to fear her stopping me, I 
didn't feel the need to grab roughly at what I could, before it was taken away.  Without 
that fear, I could take the time to explore her body properly.  Between one fear, and my 
lack of another, I managed to do at thirteen what many blokes never managed or bothered to 
learn.  Even as I was treating my sister very, very wrongly, I was doing a very creditable 
job of treating her right.

	I explore the entire front of her body and upper flank, gently caressing every 
square millimetre of skin above the waistband of her shorts.  I count by touch her ribs and 
the handful of tiny moles scattered across her torso.  Every now and then I find a spot that 
makes her break out in gooseflesh and shudder.  These I memorise, not sure in my thirteen 
year old mind of how I would use them, but knowing nonetheless that they might prove 
important in the future.  Slowly, I taught myself a girl's body, learning that giving 
pleasure, even if that pleasure was not consciously felt, was a greater pleasure than simply 
taking it.  And all the while, I steadily pump my cock back and forth between my nine year 
old sister's skinny thighs.

	I can't believe that I haven't squirted my spunk over her legs and pussy a dozen 
times over.  The threat of it is there, but it seems my preoccupation with exploring her 
body holds me back from the brink for now.

	Having learnt what I can of her upper body, move onto her legs, teasing myself by 
saving the best till last, though the delay is a short one.  Still, I find that by softly 
brushing my fingers between her thighs I can change the timbre of her sleeping vocalisations 
and the tempo of her movements.  Make them more urgent.  

	Finally, I start to home in on my ultimate destination, sliding my hand beneath the 
loose fabric of her lightweight pyjama shorts over her bony hip.  Yet I still deny myself 
that goal.  A light touch trailing across her lower tummy causes a gentle shudder to ripple 
throughout her entire body.  A teasing arch covering the tops of her thighs and where the 
lowermost part of her tummy bulges out to form the top of her quim forces an almost whimper 
from her lips.

	She quivers and mewls with anticipation as I pass back and forth, tightening the 
arch until my fingers slide along the creases where the tops of her thighs meet the lips of 
her pussy and cross over the top of her pussy mound close enough to the top of her slit for 
me to feel the edge of a barely perceptible dimple.  Beneath my fingers, her skin is slick 
with her juices.

	She whines her frustration as I take my fingers from her box and lift them to my 
face.  In the darkness, I inhale her scent.  There is a faint hint of peach from the body 
wash she'd used earlier in the evening  and also faintly, the odour of her last pee before 
bed.  Stronger is the familiar smell which is my little sister Cindy.  Strongest of all is a 
new scent, musky and sweet, but for all its unfamiliarity, it is instantly recognisable to 
my body as the smell of sex. I taste her, at first hesitantly and then with enthusiasm.  
Salty, sweet, earthy, utterly unique and indescribably delicious.  I wanted to drown myself 
in my baby sister's little quim.

	I returned my fingers for more, finally dipping into the centre to where her juices 
were thickest.  There my fingers brush over a hard little knob a little smaller than the 
last joint on my little finger.  For an instant Cindy freezes, and then with a gasping 
explosion of breath she starts moving even more frantically than before, dragging that 
turgid knot of flesh back and forth beneath my finger.  Fascinated by her reaction to this 
seemingly minor touch, I experimentally tweak the swollen protrusion and she practically 
explodes.

	Her hand suddenly clamps down on my wrist like a vice, not to pull me away, but to 
force my hand harder against her bucking mound.  Against the inside of my wrist, I fell her 
tummy ripple with deep muscular spasms.  A full throated cry of pure passion erupts from her 
throat as her hips jerk back and forth erratically.

	Dimly I'm aware that she's no longer asleep, she can't possibly be asleep, but the 
explosion in her body triggers my own long delayed climax.  Liquid fire sears through my 
groin, blasting from my body in gut wrenching bursts.  Never have I cum so powerfully.  The 
sensations coursing through my body are almost painful in their intensity and go on and on, 
lasting three or four times as long as any previous orgasm.  Hot, wet spurts of my spunk 
coat my hand and Cindy's pussy.  Spurts that keep coming and coming, more and stronger and 
thicker than ever before and even after my balls are drained my body continues to twitch 
spastically, trying to expel seed that is no longer there.

	A minute, two minutes, an hour later, it ends for me, but my sister still writhes in 
the throes of sexual release, crying out incoherently as she jerks her hips back and forth 
on my rapidly softening prick, as she pulls and pushes on my wrist in an effort to get my 
slack fingers to manipulate her throbbing clit.  Dimly aware of her need, I stiffen my 
fingers and drag them back and forth through her slit.  I try to be gentle, but she is 
having none of that, she jams her pelvis forcefully against them, and pushes down on my 
hand.  Gentle holds no meaning for her at this time, she wants raw and powerful.  I pinch my 
fingers together on her slippery pleasure bulb, and she lets out a throat tearing shriek as 
she finally peaks and then crashes into oblivion.

	As she slowly subsides I begin to realise what I have done, but post orgasmic torpor 
makes my fear a distant thing and holds me in my place, still spooned up against my sister's 
sweating body.  Slowly though it begins to rise within me, I've just molested my little 
sister in her sleep and though she may have enjoyed it I doubt that that will be enough to 
keep her from telling our parents when they return.

	I feel her begin to stir, and the hand resting slackly on top of my own moves to 
feel the wet sticky mess between her legs. "That. . ." she croaks and swallows to moisten 
her mouth, "That is so frigging gross."

	End of Cuddlesome Sister - part 1

	

