His Sister Bernadette

Readers, there are two unusual things in this story's presentation. One, it's longer than any other that I've published in one piece. Two, that's because I published the first parts as two short chapters, but realized (with the helpful insights of commenters) that the expectations set in the setup weren't in the payoff. So I've removed the first two parts and revised them to make one longer story. Let me know if this works better. And thanks for your attention!

His Sister Bernadette And Her Transfiguration

The Universe moves in mysterious ways, John thought, as he cycled through fantasies, reminded of his aunt and that summer ten years before when she introduced him to the joys of sex. Back then he'd been recovering from a construction-related broken leg. This time it was a much more minor injury. He'd dropped a 4x4 on his toe and, not wearing steel-toed shoes, he'd cracked a distal phalange, or so the doc called it.

'Just the tip' is what the distal phalange is. Just the tip of his middle toe and still it hurt enough to make walking painful.

He'd wrapped the toe in a paper towel and bound it to his other toes with a strip of duct tape and the doc said to stay off it for a day or two. Or at least to use a crutch if he had to get out. So he cleared his calendar of renovation work and, more reluctantly, of the women scheduled for his stud services that week. He didn't want to color his reputation by making love to a client in anything but the top of his form. Jerking off had as much analgesic effect as the ibuprofen did, anyway. The day's work was all deskwork.

So, still blessed with a cock that rose at the hint of fun, he sat after dinner with a fierce boner and nowhere to go. The fantasies of his aunt, leaning over him in that yellow sundress, pointy breasts swaying in its shadowed interior, and rubbing one out for him in his old bedroom often arose when he masturbated.

This time, after swiping right in his mind through all the dozens of women he'd helped to embrace their sexual power, an image of his sister Bernadette popped up. She was the youngest of seven, just nineteen now, still a little pudgy, still both argumentative and shy. Bernadette was the one who most took after their mother on the shorter and rounder end of the spectrum. They didn't actually see each other very often and, being a much older brother, hadn't really gotten close when he was at home.

But his father had said that Bernadette was the one who outed him as Staten Island's notorious cougar repair man, characterizing him as reputedly an antidote to the generally low quality of lovers to be had these days. Since his father'd mentioned it, the idea of shifting his attentions to younger women in need of a good man had entered his thoughts. Carrie, who'd inserted herself into his and Dr. Wright's therapy of her mom hung around in his fantasies now. Bernadette entered his thoughts, too, only to be quickly pushed aside by the taboo.

"But aunt Gloria..." his other brain reminded him, "wasn't that incest, too? Didn't that turn out just fine?" So here he was jerking off and up pops Bernadette all coy smiles and dimpled cheeks and innocent curiosity. Aunt Gloria, now living in Italy, aside, in ten years he'd successfully kept his sex life separate from his family.

The other reason Bernadette had been foremost in his imagination is that she'd texted him the day before with a cryptic request: [bf trouble, can you help?]

It was good to know she had a boyfriend - her shy prickliness had the whole family worried about her romantic prospects. But John supposed that if she knew of his reputation as the Italian Stallion maybe it wasn't a surprise that she'd ask for his help.

So as he slouched there in the upholstered chair in his living room fantasizing his way to an orgasm, Bernadette's smiling, curious face arose and, necessarily, the rest of her body followed. The part of him that felt squeamish about imagining sex with his youngest sister kept his view of her more innocent than his usual lusty fantasies might have projected against the movie screen in his head. On reflection, the Universe wasn't moving mysteriously - it was natural for his sister to be a masturbation fantasy.

In John's mind Bernadette still had her catholic school outfit on as she cautiously approached him. Another callback to the days of Aunt Gloria he noted, amused. The light of an arcing reading lamp made a yellow circle in that corner of the room. Imaginary Bernadette inched in from the dimness, kicking off her black mary janes and standing there in white knee socks, tartan skirt, well-filled shirt and plaid tie.

Unlike the real Gloria, imaginary Bernadette was reluctant to take off her clothes. He didn't command her, he didn't point or suggest. He didn't need to. His own imaginary self was naked in the chair, lounging back and stroking his impressive organ the same way he stroked it in reality.

He knew what women liked about his body - muscled from real work, lean and long and supple. Holding his cock he admired how it resembled a fifth limb, not a muscle but muscular, with the veins popping and a thick curve to a fist-like purple cap.

For a minute his figment of Bernadette stood there biting her lip and twisting her hands together. She looked hard at his eyes and he waited with a knowing smile. "What kinda boyfriend trouble are ya havin', Bernie?" he imagined asking, looking at her dimpled knees and letting her feel the heat of his stare creep up under the hem and along her thighs.

"From what my friends say, it's the usual kind," she said. He knew that if he stared at that shirt bulging with breast flesh long enough and intently enough they'd begin to feel hot in there, that she'd feel the heat of his gaze in her nipples. They'd itch and they'd swell in whatever harness she had holding them.

"Don't accept anything less than the utmost integrity and character in a boyfriend," he said, pretending to be pompous.

"Easy for you to say, brother," she looked peeved, "You have a waiting list."

"Point taken," he replied, still stroking that fat, vein-ridged pole and looking at the plaid tie snug around her neck. Could he make it feel too constricting just by looking?

Apparently so. Fantasy Bernadette fumbled with the knot and slowly untied it. He found it interesting that his fantasy sister used old school ties and not a clip on. Somehow it gave his sexual reverie a little more class. Also, this sister had a nice blend of shyness and fierceness that he found enticing. Was she curious enough, hungry enough to overcome the incest taboo, too? Could they help each other to do it? Was this fantasy a dry run?

"So, the boyfriend... what's the deal?" he imagined asking, squeezing a drop from the tip and polishing the knob with it. Bernadette probably hadn't watched a guy do that before in real life, he supposed.

Indeed her eyes were on his glistening cock as she said, "Shitty Bobby dropped me 'cause I'm inexperienced. I was too much trouble, he said. He didn't want a virgin."

"Yeah, Bobby's a tool. Lazy, too."

Bernadette's fingers moved from the tie to the top button on the crisp white blouse.

"So, I understand you're the best local teacher, Johnny." He imagined she must be a little nervous - the buttons were giving her issues. But she was getting there, the fabric pulling apart further with each little 'pop'. Her bra had the substantial look of a garment with real work to do.

"And I understand," she said, "you'll take this at my speed, right?" John imagined that 'this' was at least lesson number one in her education. When his sister tugged the shirtails from her skirt those breasts did a jello-jiggle.

He tasted strawberries just looking at them.

"You're a grown woman, Bernadette," John smiled.

She looked at him for a minute, watched his tradesman's hand stroke his tool. With a look of determination she reached both hands behind her and wriggled the bra hooks free. A curl of her shoulders and the sturdy cups peeled away. John felt the weight of the mammaries from where he reclined. They swung loose and heavy and soft, the little ocher nipples just an accent.

"I get horny, Johnny. Maybe I'm like you? I've got a high libido?"

"What makes you think I do?"

"Pfffft! Italian Stallion? Nobody with a reputation like yours could be average in that, erm, area." She looked at his impressive cock as if size of meat equated to size of libido.

"I was just born this way," he said, feigning modesty.

"I got the same genes, I guess, on the female side," she bent to take off her socks and those breasts swayed to her knees. Covered in a tracery of fine blue veins, he could hardly wait to get his lips on them. "You think mom and dad gave 'em to us?"

"Seven kids in eleven years?" he chuckled, "I don't think being Catholic's the only reason."

Bernadette stood and carefully pulled down the zipper at the side of the tartan skirt. As she stepped out of it her body moved deliciously. The skirt got tossed in the pile. She'd treated herself and him to a nice scalloped pair of high-waisted silk panties that shone in the light of his lamp as she moved closer into its circle. John felt her heat then.

"You've had your hands on one of these before, I assume?" he asked, angling his erection toward his sister.

"Not for long... Bobby came real quick when I touched him like that." Her fingers were flexing as she stared at it.

"You won't have that problem with me," he grinned, "but let me give you some pointers before you try it yourself."

John explained how the whole organ was sensitive and touched the corona and the frenum with his fingertips to show those most responsive parts. He held his balls and told her how they enjoyed a delicate and careful touch, suggested that a woman could develop a skill in multitasking down there with her fingers and lips and tongue.

"It's something you and your guy will work on together. It takes practice," he said, "But I guess that's why you came to me."

Bernadette watched all this intently, biting her lip. A pudgy hand had slipped down to pet the silk covered rise of her mons.

"If you put one hand around the root, like this," he demonstrated, "and hold it tight, then wrap the end with your other hand and stroke it..."

He imagined her fingers scratching at her panties. The other hand found a nipple and her palm slid in small circles on its tip.

"Make sure there's plenty of lubrication so your guy doesn't get chafed. It's just as important for him as for you to be really wet." He smeared his own clear juices over the knob as he tugged. "Of course, the best way to get it slippery is with your mouth."

Bernadette swallowed and pinched that nipple. Color rose in her body, giving her a dark glow, bringing out her own dusky Italian coloring.

"How do you like to touch yourself?" John asked, looking pointedly where her hand teased her panties. "What do you think about?"

"It's dumb..." she looked awkward.

"If it works for you..." he just smiled, eyebrow raised, "I've got one where my sister strips for me."

She shuddered and closed her eyes. "It's in a boat in the lake in Central Park. You know, where people can see us, but we're alone out in the middle."

"You like to be watched..."

"Like people in the buildings could be watching with telescopes. I can't see them, but he's taking my clothes off and everyone can see." His sister stripped her panties down enough to get her fingers in the meaty, furry triangle.

"They see how beautiful you are. How you've become a woman. How ripe and ready you are."

Bernadette slowly ran a finger along the channel between her labia and it came away wet.

"Do you take your time?"

"When I'm alone, really alone."

"Like we are now? Do you get yourself all worked up, then stop?"

"Sometimes. Like the guy in the boat kisses my nipples for a long time and just rubs his leg against my, my, mmmm right here." Her hands were obviously doing what her fantasy guy was doing and her breathing got deep.

"So the boat's rocking, the people are appreciating you all spread out on the ribs, your man's using his hands and his mouth so skillfully..." John stared at her hand moving.

"It goes on for hours, just rocking like that." She stared at his hand moving along his curved pole.

"He doesn't let you cum..."

"We float..."

"I think those panties are just in your way now, sister," he said and she pushed them all the way to the floor, kicked them aside. "Turn around."

"My butt's too big...," she looked back over her shoulder at him.

"No, it's just right. I guy needs some cushion for that pushin', you know."

She trembled then and he saw her elbow articulating as her hand moved at her crotch.

"Bend over now," he whispered, "Sloooowly, please."

Bernadette eased down and he saw the swell of her breasts as they swung. Her butt, firm and round, gradually parted to let her pink sex peek through. John saw her fingers sliding along the lips. She had her eyes closed.

"You like to just stroke yourself for hours?" he asked, "I do."

"Mmmm, must be in the genes, huh?"

"Don't put your finger in. Not yet."

"That's right," she sighed, "keep that buzz..."

John focused on the winking pussy and her wet fingers, with long, slow strokes of his organ. He imagined his purple, tight-skinned knob parting her, the wet, pink flesh stretching.

"Come closer and I'll show you more."

Bernadette turned and eased down to her knees between his thighs, looking hard at his sticky fingers as they slid over his knob.

"It's so nice to let the feeling percolate like that, isn't it?" He saw the curiosity in her eyes, and the hunger, too. "See how it makes its own lubrication? That's supposed to be helping get you wet, not my fingers."

"Can I... can I touch it?"

He just peeled the fingers of one hand from the knob, holding it up for her with the other still gripping the root, angling it for her inspection.

She leaned in close. Her heavy breasts lay warm and soft on his thighs. Her breath teased the wet tip. A tentative hand opened around his plum and she smiled up at him.

"So red! So swollen. I know it doesn't hurt, but it looks so strangled... the veins..." she cocked her head to appraise the length.

He said, "Bernadette, you've become a woman in full. I feel that woman's body against me. I see that woman's appetite." She got even redder at this praise, the little sister in her still present. "There's no reason the woman you've become can't have all the pleasures that body is capable of experiencing."

"I want to be a good lover. Don't I have to learn to do that first?"

"You and your guy can teach that to each other. If he's not a tool."

"Show me how to touch you."

He took her small hand and wrapped it around his shaft, the shiny, purple helmet standing proud. He helped her squeeze.

"It's so hard and soft at the same time." she whispered.

"Feel how the skin slides," he moved her hand along and they watched the foreskin wrinkle over the end.

"Peekaboo!" she giggled, as they pulled the flesh back and the one-eyed playmate reemerged. Bernadette enjoyed this hide-and-seek as he pulled his hand away to let her explore. He stroked her hair, tickled her earlobe. She was too absorbed in stroking him to notice.

She looked up when he groaned, "You won't cum on me will you?"

"Not unless you want me to," he gritted his teeth, "Hold on a second."

"Close?" she looked cautiously at the tip as if afraid it would suddenly spray.

"Just stop moving for a bit," he relaxed as the tugging stopped. "It's easy to make a guy cum, but it takes skill to keep him aroused for a long time."

"I wanna know how," she smiled, "cause then it's better for me, too, right?"

"Yeah, you can take turns makin' each other crazy."

Bernadette looked intently at the stretched knob squeezed in her hand, his hand still gripping the root, and brought her lips close. She looked up at him, said, "You're gonna want me to lick it, right?"

"Let me touch you first," John leaned forward to run his fingers through her hair on each side of her head, pulling her upward. He gingerly lay his lips on her upturned mouth and just let the wet flesh glide. She trembled in his hands, moaning. Her hand clenched on his sticky pole.

"I want to make you as excited as I am," John ran his fingernails along her neck and gripped her shoulders, pushing her back on her haunches, kissing her all the while. He took a heavy, full breast in each palm and lifted, sliding fingertips along the damp creases below them.

Bernadette held his cock absentmindedly now as he sought a nipple with one hand.

"I'm dizzy," she sighed, breaking the kiss, "don't you need attention though?."

"I can wait," he explained, "All good lovers take turns."

She relaxed into his fondling. He brought a thumb to her lips and rubbed. She instinctively sucked it in and held the tip in her teeth.

"Get it wet," he said. She licked.

Then he placed the wet digit on a nipple and slowly circled it. He felt the little nub harden, her tiny, rosepetal areola stiffen into a cone.

"Ohhh, Johnny," she sighed, "nobody's played with me like that... I'm so dizzy..."

"See, patience, patience, patience..." he pinched the strawberry between finger and thumb, gradually increasing the pressure until she quivered.

"I'm dripping down my leg," she whispered, leaning into his big, rough, gently squeezing hands.

"You can touch yourself," he whispered back.

Bernadette's hand slid down between them and she shook when it slipped between her thighs.

John had a lot of breast flesh to explore and he took his time. These mammaries were more than even his broad hands could encompass, so he took his fingers on a roadtrip, walking the warm, soft territory slowly. He tested their weight in his palms, circled the hard nipples with his thumbs, smearing the wetness around.

His sister lay her head on his shoulder while she teased herself and he fondled. They found a long, slow rhythm. Over long minutes he felt her rising excitement. His own smoldering heat was a slow throbbing in his cock, hard and waiting untouched.

"Try not touching yourself now," he said.

She whined and reluctantly pulled her hand away, leaning back and looking at him with awe in her eyes. John pinched one nipple while grasping her wrist and bringing her pussy-wet fingers to his lips.

Bernadette stared wide-eyed as he slowly sucked in the dripping index finger. He ran his tongue around it, savoring her musky, sweet juice. She quavered and shook between his thighs, nearly falling, grabbing one leg, laying her head on his shoulder again, faint.

"I didn't know they could do that..." she sighed, "I mean, my nipples... I didn't know they could feel that hot."

"Patience..." he murmured and trailed his fingers across a nipple, down around the heavy swell of breast, along her belly to tease her bellybutton, then very slowly, using his nails, he followed the trail of trimmed hair into the moist, warm cleft where her pleasure waited.

He gently pressed his fingers along the meaty rise, finding the sticky creases on each side, searching for the swollen, crinkly lips hanging loose from her sex. He avoided her clit for a long time, just sliding his fingers in the soupy flesh and spreading her moisture further back with each stroke.

She spread her knees where she knelt, sighing as both hands did their practiced magic on her skin. John teased her nipples with one and learned her most intimate crevices with the other. He knew that she tingled with an electric intensity. She shivered under his fingers.

The tip of his middle finger felt the hot, seeping slit between those thick, hanging lips and slid over it. He didn't press, he didn't grind, just glided in the gentlest stroke, moving her juice to coat from her clit to her pucker. Every stroke brought a shudder from her body. He enjoyed the feel of her prickly hairs on his fingertips.

Bernadette's hand found his cock again and grabbed on with a sort of desperation. She was more a drowning woman than a lover, still. He didn't care if she even was aware that she'd grasped him. He wanted her to surrender to her own joy at his hands.

"Are the people seeing you spread for me?" he asked.

A tremor ran through her, "so many eyes..."

"I want you to come again. Come again for me, Bernie," he whispered, pressing his finger ever so slightly upward as he ran it over her clit.

"Mmmmkay," she whimpered.

He pressed that finger up more firmly between her lips, then along her taint and ground it across her pucker, pressing the heel against her clit.

She yelped and shook.

He did it over and over while pinching a nipple rapidly, moving his hand with firm strength along her whole, wet, splayed womanhood as she trembled on her knees. Her hand clenched his cock, unaware of his dripping on her knuckles.

He said, while bringing her upward to her release, "Let me lick your fingers again."

She raised her hand from his cock and he ran his tongue across her knuckles, letting her watch him tasting himself. Bernadette's eyes rolled back as her body shook in orgasm, her teeth clamped tight and a whine escaping.

His sister went stiff under his hands, her thighs clenched on his arm, the fingers he sucked into his mouth flexed on his tongue. She wailed her pleasure to the dark room.

Gradually, she went soft in his arms, still on shaky knees between his thighs.

"That was amazing..." she sounded delighted, "but I came here to learn how to make a man happy, Johnny."

"You have to know what makes you happy, too. So you can tell him what to do."

"Taking turns, like you say?"

"Learning as you go."

"You like to taste your own, uh, stuff?" She looked curious.

"It's kinda inevitable. It gets everywhere."

"No shit... what's it taste like?"

"You didn't taste Billy's?"

"Eww, no." But she took hold of his sticky shaft again, getting her fingers messy, looking closely, "Yours is different, somehow."

John just watched as his sister examined him. He twitched his cock and she giggled. The heat of her orgasm still radiated from her soft body. She brought her face close again.

"Inevitable, you said," she bit her lower lip.

He twitched it and a clear drop oozed from the tip.

Bernadette leaned closer, cross eyed, intense, and extended her tongue, pulling his knob.

The delicate pink tip of her tongue just touched the shiny, purple skin to whisk away the droplet. He twitched in her hand. She looked appraising as she savored him.

"Kinda salty... a little sweet..."

"The real thing has a kick to it."

"I hear it'll burn my tongue," she looked skeptical.

"Some women I know get a craving for it."

"That seems weird," she said, watching another drop swell from his tip.

"Some admit it, some don't," he groaned as she swiped again with her tongue, just brushing the end. Her fingers squeezed to bring forth another taste.

Bernadette began stroking him again, watching the skin slide, working the juice along his shaft. He gripped the arms of his chair and spread his knees. She'd rested her pillowy breasts on his thighs again, hot and sweaty where they touched.

"Do you know how to tell your guy's getting close?"

"Uhhh, probably not," she said, squeezing and pulling eagerly now, her mouth set in concentration. "Billy was close before I even unzipped him, I guess."

"Listen for my breathing, watch my chest heave. You'll feel my whole body tense up."

She kept up the quick strokes, determined. "Are you gonna tell me before you cum?"

"How do you want it?" he sucked in a breath. She was really giving it her best.

She thought for a minute, slowing her stroke, "On my tits, I think, Johnny."

Kneeling on the floor in the orange glow of the floor lamp, her lush body still radiating her pleasure, pulling his organ like she was at a one-armed-bandit in Atlantic City, he had to give her credit for effort. He could indeed shoot all over her breasts with enough of this vigorous tugging. Especially since she smiled so sweetly and obviously wanted his splooge all over her.

"There's a lot more to learn before that happens, sister," he said, wrapping her hand in his and peeling it off. His cock was red with the friction, pulsing with intent to explode. "Let me show you how to make it last even longer."

She looked frustrated and a little chastened. "Don't you want to cum?"

"You're doing a great job, Bernie," he consoled, "if we were going for a quickie that would be terrific."

She sank back and put her hands in her lap. Her arms framed and squashed her melons delightfully. She looked at him like an obedient school girl.

He instructed her to put on her skirt again and put the tie around her throat, then kneel again. Now for the meat of the lesson.

"When a guy's making love to you," he said, taking his pole in hand again, "When you're on your back with your legs wrapped around him and his weight pressing you into the bed and his cock deep..."

"Yeah?" she said, riveted.

"When he's pounding away like that you may notice the signs I mentioned - the breathing, the tensing."

"Yeah?" she leaned in, watching him stroke himself slowly.

"But there are more subtle things."

"Yeah?"

"Things you only notice if you're not on the receiving end, if you're pleasuring him and he's just sitting there. Like I am now." He offered his cock. "Hold it again. Just hold it."

Bernadette tenderly wrapped her fingers and sat there. "What now?"

"What's the best way to get it wet?"

"My mouth?"

He just smiled and she leaned closer, scootching on her knees. The tie pinched between her breasts when they squeezed between his thighs. She went cross eyed again and pulled his knob toward her lips. The moment her heat sank over his crown he felt a surge through his body.

She just held it there, uncertain. She looked up, lips stretched thin, questioning.

"Take just enough to be able to move your tongue around," he said, gripping the chair arms again.

Bernadette drooled and began exploring with her tongue, grunting. John lay his head back and simply enjoyed her beginner efforts. He let her taste him and probe the topography of his organ, let her get familiar.

"You already know about taking care with your teeth, I can tell," he said, "feel how my corona is just behind your teeth?"

"Mmm, hmm..." she said and that felt damn good.

"It's OK to very gently scrape along that ridge as you pull your mouth off. Try it."

She tentatively moved back and he felt her teeth drag across the crown, felt her breath cool his knob.

"Like zzhat?" she asked, her tongue tip tickling.

"Yeah, there's one trick for you." He felt his cock throbbing all the way up his spine.

She sucked him back in again and looked up sweetly, questioningly.

"Make that part of your variety of moves. Try swirling your tongue around, then sliding me across your teeth, then licking all the way down to my balls. Slowly."

She did, and he felt the all-over heat of her mouth, the muscular massage of her tongue, the cool/warm of her descent to his testicles. Bernadette moved slowly, her lips feeling for purchase along his pole, testing his slickness, tasting his ooze as she pulled the pulsing organ back to reach her mouth to his scrotum.

She brought her fingers to his sack and weighed it. "How do you guys even walk with all this junk swinging between your legs?"

John didn't answer, just let her examine the soft, wrinkled bag, move the loose eggs around with her fingers. She remembered to be gentle. She leaned in to kiss each testicle, leaving wetness behind.

"Did you see my balls pull up when you did that?"

"Yeah, they twitched a bit." She kissed them again, laying a wide tongue along the warm, soft skin. They drew up again.

"When a guy's getting close they pull up even when you're not touching them."

"Like cocking a gun?"

"Yeah, and if you touch them just right at just the right time it's like pulling the trigger."

He could see his sister filing that information. She was an eager student. She licked up his shaft again, catching a runnel of fluid, savoring it before sliding her taut lips across his crown. Her tongue probed again, nosing into the folds of foreskin, the pee-hole, the arc of his flared cap.

"The most sensitive spot, Bernie, is just there..." he said when she noodled at his frenum. "That little delta on the bottom right there..." She concentrated her attention on poking with her tongue tip into it and his hips rose up, buttocks clenching. Bernadette rose up with him.

"MMmmmm," she giggled and sent jolts through him. His body began to stiffen.

"Hold me with your mouth and try very slowly stroking."

She'd drooled well and he slipped in her fingers. Her hand moved freely, sliding over veins and down into his hairs. Spit coated his balls and dripped on the chair. She heaved her breasts up onto his thighs again. He took the tie in one hand like a leash.

She did her best to take more cock in her mouth, but he was big. The plum was about all that fit for most women anyway. Gamely she tried to walk her lips down the shaft.

"It'll make you drool real hard if you try to take me too deep," he cautioned.

She seemed encouraged and pressed him to the back of her throat, said, "Mmmm, hmmm..." And that vibrated through him to his toes. His legs began to seize.

John took one finger and ran it along the seam where her lips stretched around his shaft. He felt in the slickness for the movement of his flesh sliding into hers, for the gnarled shaft spreading her soft mouth. He resisted the urge to put his hand behind her head and push her down. The drool seeped over his fingers.

"You could use both hands now," he said. There was plenty of shaft to wrap the other hand around.

Bernadette obeyed, stacking her hands and trying to pull his cock up by the roots. His body braced for it, his spine curving into her grip, his belly rippling, his breath steaming.

She bobbed as best she could, grunting with each descent, pulling, milking his shaft, letting the knob slide along her tongue, letting her teeth just barely rake the crown. She was a quick learner. Flesh on wet flesh went, sklurk, sklurk, sklurk.

He trembled. His body arched up off the chair. She rose, her breasts dragging on his legs, her forehead creased in concentration.

"You're doin' really great, Bernie," he groaned, "you're doin' it. Did you notice my whole body just broke into a sweat?" The heat between them flared. Sweat slicked everything.

His sister made an appreciative mmmm in her throat and looked up at him with eager eyes. She seemed so happy to please him.

Then she slid one hand down and cupped his balls. She remembered! She raked one nail along the seam of his walnut and they locked eyes. Hers held the big question and his held the answer.

Yes, she'd pulled the trigger.

A groan began in his chest as his body stiffened. His hips jerked and he knew she'd be feeling the first oozing of juice in her mouth.

She pulled her mouth away, smiling and determined, grabbed his pole with both hands again and kept on pulling, sliding in the slippery spit.

She aimed him down and leaned back to present her breasts, the flesh wobbling, the little brown nipples alert.

"Yessss," he gasped, watching his knob thrusting from her fist, feeling the ridge pop through, seeing his balls up tight, dripping. "Squeeze just a little harder."

His body convulsed. The fire ignited in his testicles and sizzled along his limbs. His sister stroked him toward the jiggling flesh, watching intently, grinning.

John's entire body clenched as the first bullet fired. Time slowed. The white web spun out and splattered across her breasts.

"Ohhh!" she laughed.

"Keep stroking," he growled, "keep stroking..."

Another jerk of his body, another rope flung across his sister's dusky breasts. The milky fluid began to sag across her skin.

His spine curled again and his cock threw another bolus of spunk.

It sprayed as she jerked him, flying wildly, truly going everywhere.

She flinched at the splatter on her cheek, giggled when a line traced her throat. Her cleavage filled as his juice ran down. One nipple wore a frothy white garland, a sticky drop stretching to fall on her skirt.

The orgasm wrung his body dry, his convulsions jittering along his arms, his feet stuttering on the floor as he came and came and came, watching his essence sheet across his sister's welcoming flesh.

Slowly, he unclenched and sagged back to the chair, breathing hard.

Bernadette looked amazed and tired and proud. She looked down at the sagging mass of jizz on her body, took her fingers and began to play in it. The ooze made sticky strings on her fingers. She scooped and brought a clot to her mouth. She looked apprehensive.

John leaned forward, grabbed her wrist and sucked his cum off her finger. Then he kissed her, his hand behind her neck, the other tracing along her spunky cleavage.

They shared his essence with their tongues and he felt her moan. She hadn't let go of his cock and her hands fluttered around it when she swallowed. Her body shook.

John brought his cum-dripping fingers up and offered them to her. She opened and ran her tongue out to wipe them clean, then sucked each one. He kissed her again and tasted the bitter sweet fire of his own semen on her tongue. She absently squeezed his softening organ and buzzy echoes of his climax ran along his body.

"That's a good technique, Bernie," he sighed, "hold your guy til the last drop of pleasure runs out of him."

She looked down at her cum-splattered body and gently peeled her sticky fingers from his cock. His sister licked her fingers clean, eyes closed, semen glazing her breasts, drying, soaking in.

As John melted back into the chair his fantasy slowly faded. Imaginary Bernadette left half-dressed and wiser. She leaned and placed one sweet kiss on his deflated cock, smiled and thanked him for the lesson.

He lay there, sticky soft cock in hand, spunk all over his chest, some in his beard, and wondered. So what is her 'bf trouble'? Does she want just advice or real training? Do I even want to be her trainer? How much trouble could we get into? Maybe I could hook her up with someone better for her. Could I really trust that responsibility to someone else?

Well, tomorrow he'd sit with her and find out.

The Following is an Excerpt from Bernadette's Diary

September 24

Diary, I can't believe he did it! OMG, when I sat down with Johnny at the diner I was so nervous. I'd heard about his sluts, no, his harem. I don't know maybe it is a humanitarian service he's bringing, and I just hoped he'd be understanding. It was so hard to believe there'd be a thirty-year-old guy who has sex with older women only to fulfill their fantasies. And to "help them revive the goddess in themselves" as he put it.

I asked him how to deal with Bobby, that asshole, not wanting an inexperienced girlfriend like me. I thought me and Bobby coulda learned how to do good sex together but he's an arrogant prick. Like he didn't have a lot to learn about sex. Also, I think he just wanted to fuck me for another notch on his dick anyway. So, I was still a 'virgin' that morning at the diner.

A couple of the waitresses were really friendly to Johnny and he just sat there in his bearded Statue-of-David glory acting like a benevolent God. Or a don, maybe. I'd asked around and tried not to let on that he's my brother when I heard of his 'services'. I learned that I'm not his usual client, being only nineteen. But I hoped he'd have good advice. When Shonna at the gym told me all she'd heard about Johnny I even felt a little proud that he's my brother.

I'd never really had a heart-to-heart with him since he's the oldest and I'm the youngest kid in the family. With five sisters in between us and him off to college when I was seven he was just a kind of legend even at home. Not a sexual legend, I mean, a kind of a grown up that I was related to. Like my family is distantly related to Sophia Loren who was some kind of actress back in the day. Mom and dad are real proud of Johnny even if he did drop out of Princeton and go out on his own in the building business instead of taking over for dad.

Anyway when I needed advice I thought I'd talk to Johnny because at least it would be kept in the family. I might have known he'd ask all kinds of embarrassing questions about my experience (almost none even if you count a couple of hand jobs) and my aspirations (duh - get to be a non-virgin without the hassle). Well, that's the way I thought of it when I sat down in the booth.

I thought I wanted to find a guy who'd stay with me. A boyfriend who'd make gentle love to me and give me roses and valentines and other romantic shit. Johnny explained that I was thinking about it all wrong. I was being a classic passive Disney princess, he said. He said I should take responsibility for my own maturing and not expect a prince to make me a grown up.

He said I should decide what I wanted and go get it, not wait to be picked. It was really hard to hear that at first. I kinda didn't have any idea what he was talking about.

He explained all about reviving goddesses and some shit about working with some psycho doctor as a sex therapist and how he was just an instrument in the universe's effort to rebalance itself. Weird shit like that. He said I needed to start smaller and only with things I could control. Like what?!?!

Johnny asked me to name one thing that would get me closer to my goal (which I still thought was to get laid without embarrassment) and he kept telling me I was thinking too big or about the guy instead of about myself. Break it down into smaller steps, he kept saying when I thought of Tinder or what to wear when I went clubbing. As if I dared to go clubbing.

I realized that too much of what I knew about sex was from reading romance novels or looking at porn vids (they gross me out!!!). He asked me how I might imagine learning more without actually having sex with anyone. I didn't go so far as to describe how I'd tried to imagine sex with the handle of my hairbrush. It just popped out that I wished I could watch real people doing it 'cause there were a couple of parties where friends practically fucked in front of me and I kinda freaked out and left. But it was really exciting, too. And it looked so much more real than the porn.

He said that was a 'realistic' first step. What!?!?!? He kept asking questions. Making me brainstorm crazy ideas. What was I supposed to do look in people's windows? He told me there are live sex shows in New York. Really??!! I mean where two people actually fuck in front of a crowd? Yuck. Johnny says that would be too expensive for me anyway, thank god. I sure didn't want to be part of a bunch of pervs watching that.

He said he knew of a pair of lezzies who streamed vids of them fucking each other and guys sometimes and maybe they'd let me watch a show live. Strangers?? That didn't feel right in my gut. Besides, it was probably too much like the porn vids.

My hopeful naive brain thought it would be good if two people demonstrated for me, like they knew I was watching, like they wanted to teach me.

And the idea of watching was getting me excited. I mean if Johnny said it was doable then I guess the idea just took root in my head. We talked for a couple of hours and it sneakily became a goal, something I really, really wanted to do. I realized how much I wanted to see real flesh touching instead of just imagining it or seeing it on a screen. The idea that it was really real. Happening right in front of me. Like I could reach out and touch it. Not that I would. But that I could.

He sent me away to think more about how it might happen. He was smart, see, he wasn't going to be that prince I wanted. He made me rethink everything and figure it out for myself even if I had no idea how. Who would I watch?!?! Was there someone I knew who'd let me? I thought of all my girlfriends. Well, both of them. They have sex all the time if you believe them. Should I ask them? Nope and nope. Hell, no. I'd die if I even asked them. I don't think that's the kind of thing you ask a friend to do. If you want to stay friends. Was there someone in between friend and stranger? I was stumped for a few days.

Of course I thought of Johnny as the guy. I tried not to think of Johnny as the guy. The thought made me dizzy cause he's my brother and all that. I was working the front desk at the gym and I'd have to sit down cause I was sweating and my heart was pounding. The idea of that tall, dark, ripped, curly haired adonis having sex right in front of me made me want to faint. It was so wrong to think like that.

But it wouldn't be like we were having sex with each other would it? Did I know any other guy who'd understand what I wanted? Actually, I probably knew a few who'd love to be watched fucking. But that's not what I wanted. I mean, it wouldn't work to be known as the girl who likes to watch, would it?. How could I ask anyone I knew and how could I ask anyone I didn't know? You see my problem. But the idea had really taken hold of me.

Shonna asked me why I was acting odd that week when she was between clients at the gym. Her personal trainer gig leaves her time to chat in between and that's how I'd learned what she knew about Johnny in the first place, that he was the rumored Italian Stallion of Staten Island. I hadn't told her he's my brother, of course.

Shonna's thirty-four. A single mom with a kid and I maybe shoulda asked her advice as an experienced grown up woman, but I didn't know her that well. I told her I couldn't stop thinking about that Johnny guy. She said she thought about him a lot too. She said she wasn't old enough for him from what she'd heard. We had some pretty raunchy girl-talk about his body and what he could do with it. What he could do with our bodies. I pretended I knew what I was talking about.

One and one are two, right? Johnny and Shonna got to be fucking in my head, especially the way she described it. I'm gonna rub that meat all over my titties, she said. I'm gonna ride him like a Harley, vibrating between my legs, baby, she said. I began to wonder if maybe this was the way to get to watch - to get these two together.

But when the idea of asking her to let me watch came up I froze. I couldn't ask that. What if she thought I was a perv. What if she stopped talking to me? Work would be awkward. It was on the tip of my tongue, I wanted it so bad. I opened my mouth to say it but couldn't make the words come out. But another idea happened. I planted a seed.

Why dontcha hook up with him?, I said. She scoffed at first but I could see she was really hard for him. I knew she was lonely, divorced for three years, and the kid spent half his time with his dad. She went clubbing and that's how I knew something about it - why I didn't want to go myself. That whole meat market thing is gross.

Well, at the diner again I told Johnny about Shonna and this plan I had. I told him I wanted to watch him and Shonna. I thought I'd die trying to say it. But he didn't get mad. He looked real serious at me. I felt it in my gut. I will do this for you, he said, if you're really sure. I was sweating my blouse all wet sitting there in the booth. I couldn't eat the scrambled eggs. That was the weirdest kind of excited I'd ever been. Practically nauseous scared and practically jumping out of my skin thrilled.

The idea of watching those two naked and fucking had gotten such a grip on me. My insides turned to jelly thinking about it. With him sitting there looking so hard into my eyes, like he was giving himself to me. It was like I was giving myself to him somehow to admit what I wanted. And it was safe! I was half afraid he'd send me away and so spun up that he wanted to help, to show me his magnificent body. I could hardly breathe.

At that moment my body, every cell in my body, wanted to fly into his arms. His naked arms. To be wrapped into his hairy chest. To melt together somehow. To feel him touch every inch of me at once. I felt that on my skin, the pull of my body toward his, like something lunar. Maybe this was a part of that goddess shit he talked about. I felt faint. I just wanted to watch, but my body said hey baby I got ideas of my own.

Johnny asked how I figured it could happen. Was Shonna willing? I said Shonna didn't know yet. Did Shonna have to know? You mean you peep us?, he asked. I said I think it's better if you can't see me, she can't see me. Wouldn't it make it weird? I mean for Shonna. To be watched. Maybe she wouldn't act natural.

I said look I'm imagining you hook up at the gym where Shonna and I work after we close and I hide in the laundry closet. He let me go on in detail about my plan. He had some suggestions. He let me get so so excited about the idea that I really couldn't un-imagine it anymore. I wanted to watch them so bad!!!

So we picked a day. I gave Johnny a tour of the gym and we thought of a plan a, b and c. He's such a wizard with practical things. I guess from being a contractor and having to plan for so many unknowns. Anyway my panties got wet as we thought it through and I imagined him stripped and sweaty in front of me, towering over petite, tight Shonna, putting his cock wherever she wanted it.

I practically shook waiting for that Monday, the night we close early. I knew Shonna had a client in the last hour. I told my brother to come in about fifteen minutes before we closed while I was cleaning up, conveniently gathering all the towels and shit.

When he came in Johnny talked up Shonna about joining and she looked stunned standing there trying to be casual in her workout kit - gym shorts and sports top, her usual look with a midriff and short afro. Her bare arms and legs were still sweaty from the last session and she was caught off guard. But I knew her dream was about to come true. I actually felt proud to be getting her something she wanted, too. I left it to Johnny to maneuver things.

I pretended to be leaving and told Shonna to lock up behind her, wink, wink. But I snuck in the back and slipped myself into the laundry closet off the small workout room. It was smelly, god it was smelly, but I left the door cracked and I could peek through the gap in the dark. I waited while Johnny did his magic with Shonna. There was no reason it wouldn't work with her. I knew she had no kid that night. Monday wasn't good for clubbing. I knew her graphic fantasies about the Italian Stallion who was every older woman's wet dream. And here he was in her gym chatting her up. Ready, willing and able. Right in her lap.

It seemed like a long time but finally they came into the room. They were already kissing, already a little on fire. I could hear Shonna's ragged breathing when she said they were alone. Johnny said he liked the idea of all the mirrors. He wanted to see her fantastic body from all sides. It would be fun to watch themselves and leave the lights on, he said. I think Shonna would have agreed to anything she was so hot for him.

For a second they looked at each other. Shonna seemed shy. Johnny seemed confident, but he was cool, too. He told her to take the lead. She reached up to the top button on his polo and fumbled it loose. I could see a dozen of them in all the mirrors. Johnny kicked off his Nikes. Shonna couldn't reach high enough to pull his shirt off so he knelt in front of her. His pecs! The hair! I wanted to run my fingers through it.

He put his arms around her and pulled her body to his, pressing his face into her chest. She hugged him there. I couldn't help compare her to me. I'm still kinda carrying some baby fat and she's a trim little spinner. I got boobs that need a bra to keep from embarrassing me and she's got a pair that sit still even when she's workin' out.

Johnny pulled at her top and she helped to strip it over her head. My brother put his hands on her waist (his fingers reached all the way around her!!) and took one nipple in his teeth. I creamed my panties watching that. What would it feel like to have him rub his beard all over my chest? Quietly, I pulled off my top and pinched my own nipples. Oh God he was making my wet dream come true. I had to put my hand down my shorts.

He took turns on her fat nipples and they got big, red and bumpy. The girl had some nice puffies I was surprised to see. She put her head back and whimpered and just let him graze. Johnny could get her whole tit in his mouth and he sucked hard on them in turns until Shonna's legs shook. I squeezed my own tit hard.

In the mirrors I saw Shonna trying to pull her shorts down.

Johnny helped, hooking his fingers and dragging them over her hips. Turn around, he said and she grabbed the frame of the Warrior machine, looking really sexy in just her sneakers. He knelt behind her and pulled her cheeks apart. I imagined it was me he was doing. I felt him press his face into my crotch and I pushed it back at him like Shonna did. His mouth on my pussy! My fingers had to pretend they were his tongue and stroked my wet lips. I smeared myself all up in my crack.

Shonna watched herself and Johnny in the mirrors smiling. He licked her until she started shaking and whimpering. I think she came!! I nearly did too with my finger just poking at the edges of my hole. I dripped all over myself. It was so hard to stay quiet.

Come here big guy, she said, stand up. Shonna took a turn kneeling then, looking up at him hungry and sweaty. His jeans bulged and she rubbed all across them before reaching for the button. Her puffies stood proud.

There was a lot of strain behind the zipper and the pants just peeled open. That cock! OMG that magnificent cock! Weird, I felt my mouth literally water when it burst free. I was drooling at both ends. They got his pants off and tossed aside and there he stood so muscular and sculptural and dark and hard and hairy and confident. My BIG brother.

It sounds weird but his cock was as handsome as the rest of him. Tall and thick and purple and a little curved with a big crimson knob practically glowing. When Shonna wrapped her fingers around it mine itched. Also my clit throbbed and I had to give it some flicks. My legs trembled watching her pull that pole downward and her mouth open.

I licked my lips, bit my lip, almost drew blood it was so exciting to see that fat knob touch her mouth. She kissed it. She licked it and Johnny sighed. Goooood, he said, just like that. My mouth tingled to imagine his juice leaking onto my tongue. I wondered what it would be like to kiss Shonna and taste my brother. I wondered how amazing it would feel to hear him telling me how good I was sucking him.

I hadn't realized how my brain would make up these fantasies just from watching them - it put me in there with them and all the mirrors. I wanted to kneel beside her and take turns licking his shaft. I wanted somebody to play with my pussy like I was doing. It was so hard to stay in the smelly closet.

Shonna got most of his knob in her mouth, but it looked so big - too big to go much deeper. Wow, my brother really is above average in so many ways. She wrapped both hands around him and pulled, her thick lips just able to close over him. Yessss, use your tongue just like that, he said. I imagined her circling his crown, getting him wet. Johnny's legs shook while she sucked him. I wanted to suck him like that, too.

I wondered if sucking real hard would make him fill my mouth with cum. Or did I have to stroke a lot and move my tongue a lot? I had so many questions. Shonna knew what to do, obviously. I wanted to know her better so I'd be brave enough to ask.

You want to fuck me now? she asked him. God I wanted to ask him that, too. She stood up and grabbed the machine again. She put one sneaker up on the bench. I saw the hot pink slit between her brown, puffy, shiny lips. Shonna was as supple as a gymnast and ripped like Johnny, only a lot smaller. They both had such poise as he stood and moved behind her tight muscle-y ass.

It looked so easy and so fun. Johnny reached around and pinched her thick, puffy nipples. Shonna reached down between her legs and grasped at his cock. I wanted to run out there and hug my brother from behind, to press my tits into his back and my mound against his hard butt. I had to make do with fingering myself. I put my finger right between my lips where I was dripping so bad.

Johnny curled his hips up and I saw her nestle his knob into her folds. Shonna wriggled her butt and moaned when he started to disappear into her. She stretched so tight! She grabbed the machine hard and hung on it while he pushed and pushed until I couldn't see daylight between them. They held it there for a minute while he rolled her nipples. I pinched mine, too.

Go slow, she said. Then go fast and hard, she said. My finger tried to follow along. I got it two knuckles deep in my pussy and tried to imagine Johnny sinking in me. When he pushed in I pushed in. I almost fell out then. My legs turned to jelly. My pussy clenched on my finger. I quivered all over. It wasn't this good when I masturbated at home, that's for sure.

I wondered if Shonna's pussy clenched on that thick pole, watching the gnarly shaft muscle her apart every time he rocked his hips up. He started slow like she wanted and Shonna's moaning just didn't stop. Ohgodohgodohgodohgod, she said. I almost laughed out loud. I tried so hard not to make sounds, but I could hear my finger making wet noises.

Johnny seemed to know just how quickly to pick up the pace. Shonna sounded like a firetruck coming down the street, getting louder and louder as he got faster and faster. I suddenly wanted to run out and get on the floor and grab his cock and pull it dripping out of Shonna and put it in my mouth. I wanted to taste that frothy, bubbly juice dripping out of her.

I put my own finger, wet and warm and slippery in my mouth and closed tight on it and sucked. Oh Johnny, I thought, Oh Johnny, fill me up! Fill me up! What would it feel like to suck a cock? What would it feel like to have a guy suck my clit? I dragged my tongue over my finger and my whole body started shaking.

I came real hard right then and I'm sure I groaned or something. I convulsed helplessly and the wave of pleasure that ran through my body made me weak. I lost track of where I was and just let the electric shock of it buzz down my fingers from my exploding clit.

I imagined my finger as Johnny's hard rod and ran my tongue all around it, believed it would burst in my mouth and I tasted spunk so thick and tart and slippery running out and dripping off my chin. I knew Johnny'd be proud of his little sister. I shook and fell on the doorframe and shook some more, dripping sweat and my own juices down my legs.

When I came back to my senses the closet door was open, they were staring over at me, and time stopped. Johnny looked smug, Shonna looked sweaty and desperate and confused and angry. Uh, oh...

-end of diary entry-

*******

John looked at Bernadette standing naked and panting in the doorway and thought, right on time. His cock still throbbed in Shonna, her sheath slick, fiery from their friction. They'd both been moments from a brain-melting orgasm. The black woman stared fiercely at his sister. It wasn't precisely according to the plan they'd devised, but he wasn't surprised. He expected this to happen. John didn't think he'd manipulated his sister so much as guided her to the venue where her true desires could surface. Every woman, virgin or not, has a goddess waiting inside to express herself.

And this was the most delicate moment in her goddess's unfolding.

"What the fuck, girl!?" said Shonna irritably, still gripping the exercise machine, still clenching on John's thick shaft. They both dripped sweat. They both still breathed deeply. They both still wanted that elusive orgasm. He was counting on it.

"Sorry... sorry," said Bernadette, leaning on the jamb and only half able to cover herself. This isn't how we planned it, she thought, but I kinda have to play along now, don't I?

"I couldn't resist, Shonna. I had to see... uh... this guy... uh... at work. I mean, in action... no, I mean... I'm sorry, I don't know what's got into me." Abashed as she was, she couldn't take her eyes off them, curved into each other, a double-parentheses of desire. And the two pairs of eyes on her weren't judging her, at least not for her looks. Maybe Shonna was angry for the interruption but her eyes took her all in with an animal kind of appetite, from her toes to her dimpled cheeks. Bernadette felt them burn their path up her body and it felt good.

John's eyes appreciated her, too, she saw. He didn't seem upset, but instead that smug smile made her warm inside. Self consciousness drained from her and some tentative confidence rose in its place. Her own animal appetite made itself known. I didn't think I could still be horny after getting myself off, she thought, but look at these two looking at me... I wanna see where this goes.

John had imagined Bernadette unclothed, but now he could appreciate her burgeoning womanhood. In her nakedness she had the air of an Ingres nude, maybe that one of the girl standing in a pool with the ewer on her shoulder. There was something innocent about her softness, the full curves and slim waist, the tentative posture in the doorway. Her smoothness and her shyness, being caught exposed, made her sweetly appealing.

Bernadette's dusky rose skin, smooth and soft, shaped a body just about grown into its full womanhood. His eye traced the hourglass of her, the messily knotted dark hair, the round shoulders, the high, full breasts tipped with small, ochre, crinkled areolae and fat raspberry nipples, pinched waist, soft belly, deep navel, wide hips, wisp of short-trimmed charcoal pubes. His sister had a buoyancy where the woman impaled on him had a firm energetic angularity. John wanted both, the angry, muscular little sex machine stuck on his cock and the plush, skittish but hungry sister poised to join or flee.

"Ladies," he said calmly, giving Shonna a good squeeze of her waist, holding the minx impaled, "there's enough of me for both of you." He looked hard at his sister and knew she wouldn't let on that they were siblings. "You, little girl, don't be afraid. Tell me why you're in that closet."

"Uh, I heard about you... from her, in fact," she looked smugly at Shonna, "and I've been fantasizing about you." She stood a little straighter, moved a step out from the doorway. "I was obsessed, kinda, with the idea and when you just... uh... just showed up I acted without thinking." When the sky didn't fall her courage grew. Something in her drew her to the couple unashamedly still joined in front of her.

She saw dozens of them in the mirrors and her own self, not half bad looking, standing there with them like some kind of old painting. It didn't feel wrong.

"So you like watching?" He asked, grinding his cock ever so slightly in the black woman, "Better than sex for you?"

"Well, I uh, haven't had, uh... real sex," she said, genuinely embarrassed, feeling so amateur.

"Oh, child..." murmured Shonna, clenching on his cock again, "I coulda helped you with that." John knew from experience that the goddess energy in the room would turn her anger to sympathy. There was always a worship of the earthly body when two women encountered him together, when he channeled Pan.

"Shonna," John said, "you like being watched? You like being a teacher?" It seemed logical given her personal trainer job and all the mirrors. Here they were multiplied in all directions - a chiseled pair of fit humans in the midst of coitus and neither of them running to cover up, but instead still minutely moving their bodies against each other. Little movements sent shivers through them both.

"So maybe you know I work with a sex therapist. Is that part of what you girls have heard about me?"

Shonna clung to the machine, said, "What they say about you's too good to be true, but I've had plenty of bad sex. I figured I should give you a try, since you walked in tonight out of the blue."

"So you like to be watched?"

"I do, actually. I look good. I know that." She eyed Bernadette. "I don't much like being perved on... but girl, you really haven't had sex?"

"You wanted to watch?" John asked Bernadette.

"I wanted to learn," Bernadette said, still flushed from her orgasm and unable to resist moving closer, "I... um..." The urge to merge rose in her now with little to impede it. This was what they'd planned for after all, her watching. And now it seemed Shonna was OK with it, too.

John pulled the black girl tight onto his spike and rotated just the slightest. She groaned. "You want to watch us now, then?"

Bernadette stood with a hand lightly covering her cloudy pubes and the other at her lips, intense, an unconcealed hunger in her eyes. She was too nervous to say it out loud, yet felt so ready. Ready for more than watching. Her fingers brushing her muff sent a delicious tingle through her.

John put an arm around Shonna's chest and lifted her off the ground still impaled on his thick spike. She squealed as he turned and sat on the weight bench. He spread her legs with his and leaned back. Their slick organs on full view in the bright fluorescents and the many mirrors, the black girl now rode reverse cowgirl and split wide, entirely exposed to Bernadette.

The not-so-shy-now sister inched closer, pulled by desire.

John lifted Shonna and held her on the tip of his wet cock. "You like what you see?"

Bernadette just nodded, eyes on their union. There was something so vital and so natural and so, well, sacred about two people coupling like this. Shonna's dark purplish-gray labia stretched tight around her brother's throbbing red column, a bright line of her cherry red insides outlining him.

"What do you want to learn?"

"How... how does that fit?" She asked, breathlessly, easing to her knees. It didn't matter that this was her brother's engorged flesh before her. It only mattered now more than before that she know this part of life.

Shonna pressed herself down his shaft and sighed, "Your body knows how..."

Bernadette leaned closer, reached to touch John's thigh as Shonna rose again, leaving her juices shining on him.

John trembled when her fingers traced along his leg. His body still hung near to orgasm and his balls tightened at her touch. He pushed himself into the black girl again and she whimpered. Deep in the heat of her his cock throbbed, but he held her tight. "Don't move," he said, "Go ahead and look close, Bernie. See how we fit."

So close he could feel her breath on his balls, she examined their inflamed flesh. John felt a finger trace the seam where he spread Shonna's swollen labia. His sister's fingertip nosed into her folds and ran over his slippery, gnarled shaft.

"Touch my clit, baby," simpered the black girl, trembling in his hands. When Bernadette tentatively pressed her finger against that nub Shonna quaked and cried out. He felt the orgasm shake her, legs twitching, body stiff. Her pussy clamped hard, milking him. She groaned deep in her chest and let it run through her, held up in his strong grip.

"Here's a little lesson, Bernie..." John said through gritted teeth, "Tickle my balls and I'll cum."

When her warm fingers ran across the wrinkles of his slippery sack the pleasure he'd been holding back overtook him. John lifted and jammed Shonna onto his pole and they both growled loud and long. He lifted again and jammed her body down again. He felt his semen erupt into her. On the third thrust he held her tight on his cock and let the organ pulse for his sister to see.

Bernadette knelt there, her hands frozen where they touched the lover's bodies, feeling their muscles twitch, watching their juices seep from the red flesh and run down around her brother's testicles. Was it because she was flooded with oxytocin that this felt practically holy? Was that why her body felt drawn to connect with both of theirs? What seemed most important was that they were all beautiful bodies and something magical could happen between them.

Did John feel the same? Could her body persuade his to initiate hers? Something compelled her to lick her fingers clean of the lover's juices. It was an intimacy that her whole self longed for.

John plucked Shonna off of his cock and gently eased her to the padded floor. He eyed Bernadette still kneeling between his knees and staring at his softening, wet organ. It would be good if she'd lean in and lick him clean like she'd just licked her fingers, but he'd let things take their natural course. He knew her goddess was alive and longing for him. He wouldn't get in the way.

Shonna stirred, "You almost knocked me out," she said wearily, "I need the bathroom. You come with me, girl."

John watched them go, one ass tight and muscular, the other soft and shaped for pounding. He just sat and let his body come slowly down, feeling that deep Dyonisian core recharge.

When they shut the bathroom door behind them and while she peed, Shonna said, "Girl, you really ain't had sex?" Bernadette was too high to let the incredulity bother her. "You want to have some tonight?"

She realized that Shonna's enthusiasm shouldn't be a surprise. After all, she'd talked a lot about her conquests at the clubs, all that bad sex she complained about. It was her own reaction that surprised her now. Bernadette felt sexy. She stood naked in the bathroom with this energetic love-bunny, her sticky thighs wet with her own juice and instead of being self conscious she was filled with an unfamiliar confidence. Yes, I'm sexy, too, she thought, looking in the mirror at her curves, chin held high. She even turned to appreciate her own bosomy figure, raising her hands over her head and watching her tits rise, too.

She and Shonna looked much different, but her brother didn't show any sign of judging. Maybe working with a sex doctor was part of it. Maybe his confidence was contagious. Maybe pretending they weren't siblings for Shonna's sake would make it easier to forget that herself. Did she really want to forget that?

"You think he can?" She asked Shonna, but thought, can he have sex with his sister?

"Pfft! Ain't no stud gonna turn down two hot women like us wantin' to do him!" Shonna said, washing her hands, standing proud in the mirror and running her wet fingers over those puffy nubs pointing from her chest. Bernadette, intrigued by how black and thick her nipples were, found her mouth watering.

"I only know what I read on the web and what I can learn from the handle of my hairbrush." Bernadette realized she wasn't embarrassed to say the plain truth. They were enfolded in a bond of trust somehow. Maybe evolution had made it so that when the prospect of mating with an alpha male arose all other things between females became trivial.

"Don't sweat it. Momma's gonna show you how it's done." Then the black woman grabbed her hand and led her back to John sitting on the bench, elbows on his knees, that heavy organ that she desired hanging slack.

He was confident. He was rock-solid beautiful, too. She wanted to press her soft body against his granite one. She wanted to rub her skin on his pelt, run her fingers through his beard, clamp his thigh between hers and dry-hump him while her nipples poked his flesh.

Just reading the women's faces John knew how the night would go. Two goddess-possessed bodies came to worship with him at the altar of primal love. Best to let them lead.

"John, this girl needs us. Poor child wants a first time and I bet you're just the man to help her with that."

He thought earnestness looked cute on Shonna, standing there still glazed with the sweat of their screwing and channeling so much happy erotic energy, playful. He asked, "Have you taught anyone about sex before?"

"No, but I'm damned excited about helping this girl." Shonna said, gripping the naked Bernadette by the arm, "It's like lifting, right? You need to pay attention to form and have an experienced spotter."

"Attitude and intention are a big part of it, too," he said, "Think on this while I use the bathroom. It's a quote from some guy. We control nothing, but we influence everything."

Bernadette realized that she felt a warmth toward Shonna in part thanks to her eagerness to help, in part because she didn't need to compare herself with her, being suddenly confident in her own sexiness. Because the woman wasn't judging her and seemed receptive,. It was like being on a field hockey team - you worked with your teammates to score, you weren't trying to beat each other. It looked like she was going to score tonight and Shonna would get the assist. Something opened further in her realizing that this woman and her brother wouldn't set boundaries but would provide guardrails.

And her body felt a pull toward Shonna's. The woman looked at her with an appetite, the caress of her gaze making Bernadette tickle inside. Perhaps she looked receptive to Shonna, too, because the woman came closer and, as she moved her open palm toward Bernadette's breast, said, "Can I touch your nipples?"

The electricity of that touch tingled right to her pussy. She felt herself gush as the fingers slid around her heavy mammaries and sought the tightening berries. Shonna turned her face up and Bernadette leaned over to kiss her. Just a brush of the lips at first, then a gasp and their mouths parted and she put both hands behind the woman's neck and kissed her like a starving girl.

Bernadette dragged her nipples across Shonna's in the rush of desire and the shocks running from all those intersecting body parts to her sex made sparks inside her. She got dizzy. Her body rose again into excitement, into the drive for release. Images of John deep inside Shonna welled up and the heat in her crotch spread outward. Her insides clenched. She dripped.

Shonna's fingers moved downward, across her belly into her pubes. She gripped the hairs and pulled and Bernadette flinched, but with the surprise of arousal. I never tried pulling my pussy hair, she thought, What else don't I know could turn me on?

John shambled back from the bathroom and they broke their kiss. This was the moment it got really real for Bernadette. Here was her brother in all his hunky six-foot-four godliness ready to take them over a red line that wouldn't even have occurred to her the week before. And here she stood, demure but devoured with a kind of need, a kind of natural impulse, a kind of unequivocal longing that she didn't have the words to describe. Her body knew it wanted what his could share.

Shonna had said, Your body knows, and she was right. In her core she knew that a merging with her brother's body was perfect. The doors were locked, the lights were off out front, they were as alone as they could be, Shonna didn't know they were siblings and was there to mentor her. The stars have aligned, she thought, and might never align again.

Looking at her brother looking with hunger at her made her weak. She wanted to fall into his arms and just let him do what he would with her body. The longing to spread herself for him, the pull to taste him on her tongue, the need to feel him pulsing inside her all raced through her.

She simply spread her arms for a hug. He stood tall over her and wrapped her tight, kissing the top of her head tenderly. Suddenly his hard, hot body touched hers. Even his kneecaps sizzled against her. The planks of his thighs and his abs were firm, his chest hairy where she buried her face, smelling his scent. Her breasts spread soft across his ribcage. But that cock pressed into her belly! The heavy mass of it, the heat and the aliveness made her want to kneel and explore it, to take it in her hands and mouth.

Shonna, forgotten for a moment, said, "How can I help you, Bernie?" And she almost laughed. Giddy with excitement and confusion, she said, "I don't know. I don't know - what do we do?"

"How about," said John, taking a shoulder in each big hand and moving her body from his, "Shonna shows you how to get me hard again?" The air between their sweaty bodies cooled them.

Bernadette looked down at that thick flesh, that manhood of his, that mysterious, almost monstrous appendage and nodded.

When his sister looked up at him with those eager, innocent, yet hungry eyes John wanted to be her hero, the man who could set the pattern for her. He wanted to save her from all the misery so many of his cougars had felt, that apparently even the libidinous Shonna had felt. John looked at Shonna and said, "Let's show her what good sex is all about."

The black woman beamed. "You sit on the bench again, OK?, and we'll get you up in no time."

He put his hands on the bench behind him and leaned back a little. It made it even easier to see the two women kneeling before him. It made him seem less threatening, too. He spread his knees and let his organ hang over his balls. Shonna looked proud. Bernadette looked nervous, but eager.

"The easiest thing," Shonna said, leaning to take his cock in hand, "is to use your mouth on him."

"I haven't done that before, either," said his sister, looking intently at the organ in question.

"We should understand something before we get started," the black woman began, "I've had some fun tonight already and you, girl, I want you to be the focus here on out, OK? I'm not gonna hog this thing." She gave his meat a squeeze.

"It's all for me?" breathed Bernadette. Her whole crotch tingled just looking at it this close up. Funny that a heightened awareness of her own body would be the effect of being naked with such a delicious man. She knew exactly where her skin ended, sensed the curve of her own flesh in space, the swell of breasts, the way her sex hid in the hot juncture of her thighs, the mat under her knees, the heat emanating from the other bodies so close. In the mirrors she caught herself inclined toward her brother. She looked like a soft nymph, some kind of mythical woman spirit.

Shonna seemed to be channeling something primitive, too. Are we in touch with our spirit bodies? Bernadette wondered. Are we finding something powerfully more common between us than anything that makes us different? Inches separated the muscular woman from her and she felt more than the heat of her body, she felt the bestial appetite. No wonder the church tried to keep sex a secret. This seemed like a scary power that rose to the surface when two or more naked bodies came together.

Her mouth watered and her pussy seeped. Her whole skin tingled with the need to be touched. She wanted to roll in something, like a dog. God, this is weirder than I thought it would be. She chuckled out loud.

"Yeah, it's pretty impressive..." said Shonna, lifting John's heavy organ. "Touch it?"

Bernadette watched her hand move toward her brother's flesh in slow motion. It's like I'm high, she mused, like I'm outside myself somehow. Her fingers closed around his soft, warm penis and a flush ran through her as her body glowed with its desire. She felt lightheaded again and took a deep breath, felt her weight settle on her knees.

"I'm just gonna watch you play with it," whispered Shonna, sitting back. "You mind if I play with myself?"

Bernadette ignored her. She could only keep this swelling man in her mind where images of her own body merging with his multiplied faster than she could focus on just one. Every sex fantasy she'd ever had crowded into her thoughts. And all those images, all those combinations of his body with hers circled around the need to feel him inside her.

John rested on his elbows and watched his sister holding his cock. The first stirrings of his second cumming moved inside him. Shonna watched her, too, and kept a finger gently swirling in her crotch. She seemed to understand that the girl needed to find her own way for a bit.

Bernadette squeezed him and he swelled. She giggled. Her heavy breasts shook. She looked up at him questioningly and he nodded. Bernie put out her tongue and touched it to his tip. One hot little touch and he kept swelling. He grew in her hand, rising, proud, and her eyes grew bigger.

She licked his tip again and he flexed. A crystal bead oozed out and she looked at it for a long time.

"Go ahead. Taste him," said Shonna, "There's gonna be plenty."

Bernadette took a deep breath and felt that engine running inside her. She hummed with its energy. Her mouth watered at the sight of her brother's juice; just that drop shimmering there. She pulled his cock closer and leaned in, tongue out. The drop melted and spread in her mouth, sweet at first then a sharp tang as she swallowed. In John's eyes she saw his need and longing for what she could bring. She felt powerful.

Another drop swelled from him and she placed a kiss on his tip, smearing the juice on her lips while watching him smile down at her. Like that day in the diner when she told him her plan and his look felt like he was giving himself to her, but this time he really was. And she was so ready to give herself to him, her nipples so hard they ached. She wanted to rub her legs together. She wondered if strings of her desire were dripping from her pussy. It felt hot enough and wet enough even without touching herself.

And her mouth watered, too. She bit her lip and licked across them. Looking at John she opened her mouth and thought about the line she was about to cross. The line kept moving, she realized, and the horizon extended forever. Why stop here?

"Go ahead, girl!" whispered Shonna.

John held his breath. His sister's open mouth hung an inch from his knob, her breath teasing him. She looked at him with a far-away air and he wondered if she doubted herself. He flexed his butt just to move firmly in her hand, so she could feel the insistent energy of his body where she held it. His balls tingled where the hairs brushed her wrist.

Bernie very, very tentatively placed her open lips on the swell of his purple crown and her tongue again licked the tip. He shook. With a look of concentration, brow furrowed, his sister let her lips stretch as she lowered her head, holding him firm in her hand. He felt the wet heat of her mouth spreading over him. He wanted to thrust, but held back, breathing hard. He gripped the bench and watched.

The red rim of his corona slowly slipped behind her lips, the tight ring of them sealing around his shaft. He felt a pulse of juice and Bernie grunted, then swallowed. She closed her eyes and moved her tongue under his knob, feeling that little wrinkled cleft of him. She'd pulled the foreskin down tight and put a second hand around his shaft while she explored his knob.

"This is exactly the right time to go slow like that," he said, sighing. She tried to smile around him. That was cute. She looked so pleased. "Let your instincts lead you."

Bernadette thought of the porn vids about deepthroating. Is that anywhere near even possible? she wondered, He's so big and I'm such an amateur. She had a new appreciation for the professionals just then. It was reassuring to know he liked it slow because that's the way it was gonna be with a cock this big. For her, anyway. Maybe Shonna could show her how a more experienced woman handled such a horse.

He flexed and pulsed in her mouth again. She swallowed again that bittersweet offering. She sucked her cheeks in tight and ran her tongue all around his rim. It made him shake and she really liked that. This isn't that complicated after all, she realized, just let our bodies tell us what to do. One day I'm going to make him cum in my mouth. Not today, but soon...

John was more than content to watch his sister get to know his cock. "You're doing great, Bernie," he assured her. And she amused herself with touching all the ribbed swells on his shaft, the wrinkled foreskin, the ventral bulge through which his spunk would flow soon enough. Her spit ran down, making her fingers slip along his skin.

"A lot of drool is good," added Shonna, "Get him good and slippery." The black woman came closer, resting an arm on his thigh. She reached for one of his nipples and tweaked it. He shivered. "You like that, huh?"

No sooner had Bernadette filed that information than Shonna took a nipple of hers between her fingers. She pinched gently then hard and that sent a sharp shock down her spine to flare in her crotch. "Mmmm!!" she squeaked and John trembled in her hands. His cock pulsed again. She hadn't realised that a man oozed so much just when he was aroused. She'd thought it all came out at the end. More good information. Tasty information.

Shonna put a hand on one of Bernadette's. "Can I take a turn?"

Bernadette released him. The air cooled him for a moment, then Shonna took his sister's place. Her mouth was noticeably smaller, but her lips more pillowy. Where they slid on his shaft they heated him. With his knob up against her molars he couldn't go any deeper. She drooled on him and let it coat his shaft where her hand began a gentle pumping. Pulling off she said, "When you get him as deep in your mouth as you can, try swallowing over and over, OK?" then offered him to Bernadette.

Bernadette felt so grateful all of a sudden. She kissed Shonna on her wet mouth and darted her tongue playfully.

John watched the two women kiss over his aching boner, each with a hand on him, lost for a moment in their own pleasure. Every time he had sex with two women it was different, whether they were mother and daughter or lesbian lovers. These two didn't have a history nearly as complex as the others had. It would be interesting to see how their own physical relationship developed, if it did after tonight. He couldn't hope for anything better for Bernie than a sex-posititve understanding of the many ways human bodies could please each other.

For now it was good to watch his sister open up to the woman who kissed her so tenderly.

John waited. The women's kiss lingered. Shonna twisted Bernie's nipple and she whimpered. Then his sister broke the kiss and leaned toward his cock again. She looked determined. She wasn't so tentative about dropping her mouth over him this time. Bernie bobbed a couple of times and then tried the repeat swallowing technique. He could tell it wouldn't get him deeper, but it felt like heaven wrapped his flare in pure joy as her throat and tongue tried to suck him down. It made her drool all the more and she worked hard at it until she had to release him for a gasping breath.

"Whew!" she spat, "that's like work. Does it feel good? I'm sorry I can't get it that deep..."

"No worries, Bernie," he smiled at her earnestness, "You're doing beautifully. As good as anyone. And this should be play, not work."

Bernadette felt lightheaded again, from the exertion and from pride. It felt so good to make someone so happy. And it was so easy! And it felt surprisingly good to have a cock in her mouth, too. Better than her fantasies had imagined. The feel of the flesh, the heat, the hard and soft and wetness of it, his juice gushing in steady, tasty drops. Her mouth felt empty without his cock in it. But so did the rest of her. What would it feel like with that cock in her pussy? Even better??!?!?

"You know what I want to see?" said Shonna, rising to her feet with hand on Bernadette's shoulder, "I want to see the Stallion go down on you, girl."

Bernadette looked at her brother and melted at his hungry smile and the way his gaze drifted down across her tits to her delta. He sat there all hard and drippy and she saw him swallow at the thought of her pussy. It made her feel oily inside. And hot.

"How about I spread some towels on the mats here?" Shonna did that without waiting for an answer and pulled on the girl's wrist, "Go on and lay back." The black woman sank to her knees beside Bernadette and smiled up at John as if to say, "Dinner's served!"

"Don't be shy about telling him what feels good, OK?" Then she lay on her side next to Bernadette and cupped one full breast in her hand. "Ever had a guy get you off like this?"

"No," Bernadette said, "neither of the guys I got handsy with wanted to do that."

She watched John ease down to his knees and realized she instinctively had her legs together. But this was another line to cross. To open her pussy completely to his eyes. She didn't think the meaty, red thing was all that pretty. She rather preferred keeping it snug inside her panties, her thighs guarding it from anyone's view. It's what she was taught anyway. Why were they made to wear school uniform skirts that only came to their knees and then told to keep their knees tight together so the boys wouldn't see their private parts? It never made sense, but she was stuck with the idea that it wasn't for her to look at. For anyone to look at.

But then she thought, well, if men think it's so special why don't we women think so? John's cock is beautiful... and it's a meaty, red thing, too. At that thought she relaxed her legs and, watching John's cock waggle and his eyes rivet to her opening delta, she began to feel that maybe her sex was beautiful, too. Maybe it just needed the right audience to appreciate it... to make her appreciate it. John sure looked appreciative as it appeared. She felt the sticky lips pull apart as her knees spread. It took her breath away to be so exposed for the first time.

John knew to go carefully into the garden of a maiden. When the goddess was present the proper approach was essential. Yes, she wanted to couple, but she needed to feel respected, to have offerings placed at her altar. And so he knelt in the sacred V and just looked, silently saying a prayer that Dr. Wright had suggested to help him steer his own male god energy to a mutually holy encounter.

He looked at his sister's moist, soft, pink flesh offered to him. It was swollen with her wanting. Still red from her fingering, too, he imagined. "You're a goddess, Bernie. Thank you." Then he brought his face down to get a lungful of her musk. He put an arm under each thigh so he could reach up to toy with her nipples or around to pull up on the flesh of her mons to open her clit to his tongue.

Bernadette rested on her elbows to see him nuzzle into her delta. The scratch of his beard on her thighs thrilled, the press of his lips against hers made her gasp. Then his tongue, hot, wet and insistent, probed into the pulpy flesh and she had to lay back down. Shonna took a nipple in her fingers again and squeezed gently to a slow rhythm. She felt her passion rise with each beat, with each lick, with each breath.

Her legs went limp, no longer with the urge to close out unwanted attention. She wanted all of her brother's attention. Right there. And there. And there. And she told him so. John moved his tongue up the seam between her thigh and labia, then down to the bottom of her opening, then lightly probed along her lips, parting them, sucking out her thick juices, tickling with his mustache, running his fingernails across her belly. He took her other lonely nipple in his fingers.

Her clit cried for a touch but he kept circling, kept finding spots that made her whole body quake. It made her curl her hips up to follow his tongue. It made her work her fingers into this curly dark hair and press his mouth to her slit.

There was a release just at the tipping point in her trembling body. She felt his drool run down her vulva. She felt his tongue darting across the edge of her clitoral hood, lapping around and around her clit, but staying just too far away for that release to begin. Then Shonna took a nipple in her mouth and she rose one more level closer than she knew was possible and still the release hung just out of reach.

"Oh, God, PLEASE! PLEASE, PLEASE!" And she pushed John's head down and tried to press her clit right up against his tongue. She growled as her body tensed, her ass rising from the towels, straining toward orgasm.

Then he put a thumb on each side of her mound and pulled upward and apart. Her clit blossomed from its hood and his tongue landed like a whole hive of bees on it, teasing for pollen, lapping and drooling all over her.

She exploded.

She writhed.

The climax shook her body, thrashed her legs, rolled her head in the tangle of her hair as she strangled a scream. It sent her consciousness into a dimension beyond time and space. She was pure pleasure for a minute, a sustained note of clear, ringing joy with her fingers clenched in John's hair, her nipple sucked in Shonna's mouth, her body an arc above the towels and multiplied in dozens of mirrors, an infinite and endless peak.

Eventually, her body remembered to breathe. And she sank slowly back to earth, John still gently licking, Shonna gently sucking. She felt it all drain out of her and she went limp. "OK, stop, now... stop. I'm dead... am I an angel now?"

He brother levered himself up over her with a wet, smiling face. Her dew sprinkled his beard. Yet there was a deep seriousness in his eyes. The ultimate moment had come and she spread her legs smoothly, lying there otherwise completely limp, completely vulnerable. Could she possibly have felt this safe with anyone else?

John, up on his arms, cock hanging hard, moved slowly, keeping his eyes drilled into his sister's. There he saw hunger and awe and anticipation and surprise.

"Guide me," he whispered.

Bernadette reached down, found his heavy organ swaying inches from her vulva and gripped it tight, holding him for a moment, poised to pierce that final thin veil of separation between them, that tattered notion of purity and of goodness. It seemed like an imaginary line. Yet, the idea of it, of her brother being her first, of him introducing her to this towering pleasure still gave her a huge extra dose of thrill. It felt so good to be so bad.

She bit her lip and let him push forward. His wide knob torched her labia where it touched and pressed aside her heated flesh. She didn't worry if it would fit, she just wanted it inside asap.

"Let him go slow," Shonna whispered in her ear, lying there beside her, one arm across her breasts, one hand holding her head where her sweaty hair stuck.

The pressure grew as his crown insisted on entry. Bernadette kept her hand on his shaft, pretending some control, but mostly feeling that thick rod pulse and flex as it met resistance. Her flower opened petal by meaty petal. She wondered if he'd reached the hot pink depths that she saw his cock expose in Shonna's gash. It felt like he was filling her wider than her pelvis would allow no matter what she desired. But she was wet and they slid smoothly as he pushed, using his weight to power his cock's descent into her.

It amazed her to think that she could experience another orgasm, but she sensed the embers of the last two still burning in there. She sensed that they could easily burst into flame again. Hoped for it with all her being.

John watched the wonder grow in his sister's eyes as he entered her inch by inch. He could feel his cock pulse in her tight hand, the knob wrapped in her wet, hot hole. It was snug, but they all were. Some women, like Shonna, had skills in gripping with their Kegels, but all of them were tight around his organ. He'd reached the depth where it was just her small hand keeping him from going deeper. He waited for her to decide while Shonna played with her nipples again.

Bernadette groaned, getting the feel of his cock filling her. And not all the way there yet, she thought, maybe only half of it... The fire in her sex wanted fuel. His fifth limb was the kindling. All it would take was some rubbing of their organs together to ignite her again. She took her hand away. He pushed. She groaned as her insides were bulled out of his way. There were nerve endings in there she'd never ignited before. And the amazement continued to grow. The arousal found another plateau and she wrapped her legs around him.

She wanted to lock her heels into his butt and kick him deeper, pull him all the way in. She lifted her hips up to meet his implacable progress. She expected to see her belly swollen with his hefty organ - it sure felt that way.

John sank to his elbows. He rolled his hips and felt his pubes grind into his sister's, felt his wet balls stick to her moist flesh. They were complete. If the universe had designed a perfect state of bliss he couldn't imagine one better than this. Her breasts spread under his hairy chest, her legs hugged his hips, her arms encircled his waist, her eyes closed in bliss, her mouth opened for a kiss. He kissed her for the first time and the union of their bodies, the connection of their most sensitive flesh brought him to that familiar state of joy. There was joy in just holding this connection, not moving, just feeling their skins, all their fleshy territory, touching.

"Bernie," he said between kisses, "I want you to take your attention into every part of your body. To every place where we touch, inside and outside. Just feel it for a bit. Just savor it."

"Mmmmm," she answered. She quivered, too. He knew her body wanted to start moving. He knew the goddess stirred in her and would come to vibrant and powerful life soon. It was in the influencing of these ancient powers, not the controlling of them, that the most exquisite pleasure could be reached. He wanted her to know that feeling, to have that skill. It would take a lot of sex together to teach it.

But that was for another time. Tonight his calling was to usher his sister into this part of adult womanhood. So for a while he kissed her. He spent time tasting her, nipping at her lips, dragging his across hers, sparring with her tongue, thinking of that tongue recently licking his cock, savoring his juice. Her moaning increased and her arms clutched at him. Her body began to stir under him.

At their side Shonna sat crosslegged with a hand cupping her sex. She seemed content to just watch. He saw that she used the mirrors, too. He wanted to get back to suckling those chewy puffies some time. He supposed she was willing to defer to Bernadette tonight because she figured he was available again in the future. She was right. He winked at her. She smiled.

Bernadette had let her mind inspect all the places they touched like John said and it made her hungrier. She couldn't stop her body from moving anymore. His weight on her amplified every movement. It made all those touching places more intensely sizzle-y. That's not a word, but it's what I am - sizzle-y, she mused, sister-sizzle-y, sister-sizzler, all-you-can-eat at the buffet...

Maybe what she was was just drunk on sex. Was that a thing? Was it just lust? She was realizing that lust wasn't merely a condition in any way. It was fundamental to being a woman, to being a human. In this state of arousal going on three-orgasms-in-a-row there wasn't any argument in her head that could persuade her that Lust with a capital 'L' wasn't the ground of her being, so fundamental that it became a spiritual state. Completely without fear she had a man, her brother!, many inches deep in her. She'd surrendered to the Universe, to God, maybe.

Was she starting to understand John's Goddess talk? Was she a Goddess if she was in the presence of God? His cock moved in her and it sure felt that way. Could a physical body feel any more right to be in? Could her spirit experience the material world any more intensely or joyfully? It hadn't before tonight, that's for sure. It was like all that Catholic School teaching about goodness and godliness had left out the best part.

God had been inside her all this time and now she could feel him! John's cock slipped back an inch and she squirmed. His skin lifted from her sweaty body and the cool air seeped between them. She wanted him back on top and deep inside, but he kept sliding outward, dragging her pleasure with him, making her hunger all the greater. As he retreated the ridges and bands on his cock pulled at her vagina, pulled at all those nerve endings she'd just discovered. She gripped him with her legs but he receded anyway.

John saw the look of almost panic on his sister's face as he withdrew. He gave her a reassuring, loving look.

"Now it's all about the contrast, Bernie," he said as he brought his knob to the merest purchase in her sex. He held it for some long seconds, then moved smoothly back into her, deep and slow. Her look of awe almost made him laugh. He loved having that powerful effect on his women. So now the dance began - John pushed and Bernie gasped, he pulled and she grasped at him. Over and over, faster and faster.

Bernadette felt the ebb and flow of pleasure across her body. Another surprise - as he sawed her pleasure's peaks and valleys were amplified. The contrast he talked about. Yeah, every time he pulled out she felt his loss more powerfully, but every time he muscled back in her delight rose even higher. She wondered where the energy came from to move their bodies so powerfully, so relentlessly, so long. Maybe they were tapped into the divine source. It didn't matter, she was going to ride it to the end if it killed her.

It was delicious to feel her breasts sloshing on her chest with his rocking into her.

Then she noticed what happened when he drove in hard. He mashed her clit with his pubic bone and a spike of pleasure flowed all the way to her brain. With every spike her brain stopped. She disappeared. She became simply... ecstasy. Off and on her brain pulsed. Another level of pleasure she hadn't imagined. She hadn't even read about it. Did everyone get this? Why'd they keep it a secret? She felt, in the moments her thoughts could cohere, that she must now be entering into the holy of holies, the most sacred, secret, sweet ark of knowledge.

John's smiling down at her made her think he could read her thoughts. "Why doesn't... anybody... tell you... about this?" she gasped. He just kept smiling. Sweat dripped on her. Their bodies made smacking noises. Shonna looked like she was about to cum again, rubbing herself intently, watching them pleasure each other.

When Bernadette looked Shonna in the eyes the woman shook and groaned through a climax, crosslegged and rocking on her own hand. They held the look while the orgasm ran through her. They were going to be good friends now, probably. Bernadette was glad her world was expanding this way. It was the trust that made it so sacred, she realized. Safe. She felt safe.

Shonna leaned forward over her knees and put her forehead on the mat, curled into a wrung out tangle of limbs, sweat dripping, her spine-jagged back rising with each shuddering breath. Bernadette watched her come down and sensed her own peak coming soon. John's calibrated pounding brought her closer and closer. Her body began to feel like something separate from her being, from her self-as-ecstacy. She drifted in the beautiful haze of it.

John saw his sister zoning out and felt proud. They were so in sync - he felt that kind of dissociation, too. It was familiar and he could drive them both to a buzzing orgasm in a minute if he kept up the pounding. Her goddess was fully present and receptive. But this was a station on the journey. He wanted her to fully inhabit her goddess body when she next peaked.

"Shonna," he said, breathing hard, "will you come over here and do Bernie a favor, please?" The woman raised her head and looked weary but willing. "Can you lick her clit for her?"

The sweaty woman crawled beside his sister and lay her head on that soft belly, angled her mouth down where his cock speared her, where he pulled the girl's legs apart, where the 'little man in the boat' sailed. Bernadette gasped when her tongue found that little cock button.

John liked that his sister looked confused for a moment. He wanted her to be fully present when they took this tryst all the way to the end. He pulled his dripping cock all the way out of her and saw the bereft look in her eye. Then he offered it to Shonna's mouth.

Shonna smiled and opened for him. His straining purple knob, dripping with Bernadette's thick, frothy cream, filled the woman's mouth. She worked her tongue to suck it clean. John pulled it from her and pressed it down into his sister again, her parted, wet and red labia eager to have him. He sank it deep and she groaned. As good as this felt it still served as a pivot point. Bernie needed to take some ownership of her deflowering. He didn't want her passive. The goddess in a woman wasn't a passive spirit but a vibrant, commanding one.

She lay under him and received his thick member with shivers of glee, with her soft body shaking, her heavy breasts pooled, the nipples spiky, her hair a mess, sweat running, the pink flush of her exhilaration coloring her. So he moved his cock back and forth from his sister's sex to the black woman's warm mouth, bringing Bernie back from her trance. He did it until their pleasure had plateaued back down a notch.

"There's one more thing, Bernie, then you can cum." John watched the look of indignation cross her face.

Bernadette recoiled even as she felt her brother's cock slide deliciously deep. She'd drifted on the pleasure his magical wand had brought her. She'd been in a kind of nirvana as a result of all his attentions. But now he pulled her back from that brink. Now he says, then you can cum? she thought, Like he's the boss. As if it was he alone responsible for her pleasure, only he could dictate the ending, only he controlled the outcome. She wanted that fucking orgasm. She was so ready for it.

Then Johnny rolled away from her and onto his back. His cock slapped wet on his belly. He looked at her and smiled. "Get on," he said, "have me your way." The energy of her indignation drove her to rise, to swing her leg over and lever his cock up, then squirm her pussy around until they fit and she could discover the angle that would get him buried to the hilt. It was bliss. She sank down his length and spread her legs wide, inviting him deep. She put her hands on his hairy chest and saw him smiling smugly again. Then she realized he'd maneuvered her. "You want me to take control, don't you, Johnny?"

Her brother just smiled and rocked his hips. OK, then, I'll take control. I'll ride the Stallion all the way to the barn.

His sister didn't notice that Shonna'd left the room, giving them the final destination without distraction. John thought the black woman had a lot of bedroom smarts. No wonder she was dissatisfied with her lovers. She was definitely worth a few more sessions.

Bernie took a minute to figure how to rise up and down on his pole. He kept still and let her find her rhythm, let her get her groove back. Her heavy melons swung wildly and she didn't care. "Let me suck your nipples," he said. She leaned forward and hung one breast over his mouth. He latched on and pinched the areola between his lips, lashing the fat nipple with his tongue.

After a bit she just lay her breasts on his chest and focused on sliding up and down his gooey shaft, her head on his shoulder. He put his hands behind his head and enjoyed it. Her hips rose just perfectly to top out on his tip and the arc of her pelvis curling down, the splay of her legs that put her pussy lips tight to his root, well that was proof of intelligent fucking design as far as John was conerned. That and the hundred other ways that human bodies fit together in pleasure.

Well, well, well, Bernadette mused, sex is the ultimate mystery and it isn't, too. She sucked in her brother's sweaty aroma with each breath. She ground her nipples into his hairy chest. She gripped his biceps, those hard, chiseled masses of muscle. She sank his magnificent cock repeatedly deep into that undiscovered territory inside her and rose steadily toward her final release. She'd arrived in a new world. One that had been only as far away as an attitude change. And one good, loving brother opened the door.

Bernadette let the pleasure build in her every cell. She followed her bliss. And it suffused her entire body, spreading from deep in her pelvis where Johnny's fat knob filled her to the tips of her fingers. It was good to be made love to by a caring partner - it was even better to make love with a knowledgeable and generous man.

Her brother brought one hand to her rump and gripped the soft meat as it shook. He slid his fingers in the sweaty cleft, pulling her apart. Even as she pumped her pelvis up and down his pole he worked his fingers along the channel, running them across her sphincter and down to the frothy, wet junction of their bodies. She imagined the view from behind - her ass up, cheeks spread, his column sucked into her, that other wrinkled hole exposed and slippery.

What if there was more than one man, more than one lover pressing her body's buttons? What if another man came up behind her, his cock hard, stroking it, kneeling... Was it OK to imagine even more sex than she was having? Was it fair to Johnny to imagine a second man? It excited her even more, though, to think the electric feeling of his fingers on her ass were someone else. Then he put his fingertip against her wet sphincter and pressed.

John was glad his instincts proved correct. He felt his sister's body shiver when he put his finger at her asshole. He didn't force it, just moved gently around the wrinkled ring and let her accept the pressure as she needed it. She began rising up slowly along his shaft then dropping quickly to slam on his hips. His own need grew in him. His need to cum again rising to meet hers.

Bernadette's body moved without conscious control, rising up and dropping down, taking his organ deep, driving the delight through her whole body. Every inch of flesh signalled overload. The nipples crushed to his chest, the labia dragged along his shaft, the fingered bung hole, the cheek against his shoulder, her hair with his other hand pulling at it.

She craned her head to the side. "Bite my neck," she begged through gritted teeth. Even as she rode him, woman on top, powering her own orgasm closer, she wanted to submit. She could have both. There was no more to want. No more to feel. When his teeth sank into her flesh the world disappeared into a white flash of ecstasy and she was back to that infinite space of delight, but at her own command. She'd brought herself here. She'd found herself here.

As he bit his sister's corded neck John felt her crescendo. Bernie's body spasmed, her hips lost the rhythm, her scream wavered, her hands convulsed, her spine went stiff and he drove his cock up into her over and over again until his own explosion crashed into hers.

Pulse after pulse of spunk rocketed through him, curling him up to fire deep. He pulled Bernie's hair and held her delicate flesh in his teeth as she shook. He squeezed her ass and ran his fingers across all he could reach, smearing their juices.

Gradually the intensity spent itself. Their squelching bodies slowed toward stillness.

Her body lay soft across his chest as the power flowed out of them, relaxing into his diminishing thrusts. The thick tool that had bulled its way into her now delivered caresses as it retreated. They became a fleshy, sweaty, exhausted puddle on the floor.

Shonna appeared again, bringing warm washcloths. "That was fucking amazing," she said, "Or amazing fucking." She washed them like an acolyte and the cleansing felt good, too. Groggy, John smiled, knowing this was just the beginning of what the three of them might discover together. Bernie had rolled to snuggle in his arm while Shonna ran the warm cloth lovingly over her body.

The black girl covered them with towels and snuggled herself on his other side. There wasn't much to say even if he could have formed words. Their bodies fit together and said all that needed saying.

The notion that this kind of teaching was needed in the world stirred in his mind. He and Dr. Wright had been rescuing lost goddesses, restoring cougars. What if he could help women find their goddess before they were disappointed in the world? Maybe he could attend to bringing forth good healthy goddesses before they had a chance to be lost. It was certainly something to sleep on.