She looked at me, “You make me want to be so bad.”
And with that Sasha moved away, my hand falling off as her skirt waved down around her legs.
What followed was a dinner composed of my favorite meal, which is basically steak and potatoes. Again, it was Sasha who sat next to me, and though no one noticed we were in heat. The fact we would sit next to each other was not particularly surprising as we were sitting in the seats where we had always sat growing up.
I honestly cannot even remember what the conversations were, my mind being utterly addled. I recall my sister outlining her plans after college, of wanting to buy a house. I do remember that, the thought of her living in a house alone, yum. I had an utterly one track mind. As she said that, I lay my hand over her bare knee. Just held her, wrapping my fingers around her leg. Again, she made no notice of my touch and it did not affect her discussion in the least. To have a little better access I shifted myself a bit closer, stroking my hand along her leg. I let go to eat and drink, but always maintaining that closeness and contact between us.
I finished before her, and she was about half done and for the most part so was everyone else. I was a fast eater. So as my hand again lay at her knee, I began to stroke up and down her leg, keeping up with the conversation at the table as I did so. She was eating slowly, and at some point my mom asked if I wanted anything else. At those words, my sister glanced at me, a little smile.
“Want anything else??” She was so coy. As I said my “no,” my answer to her was yes as I curled my fingers on the inside of her thigh sliding my hand higher and her dress.
We were all talking now about friends and work, girls and boys and weekend parties, and sports. But my touch lingered on my sister, sweet and light. Tickling my fingers over her skin, drinking in her flesh. Sasha’s skirt was so light and slid up easily, gathering in her lap. Something no one but me could see. I slid my hand up and down her thighs, letting it drift higher each time, until I could feel the heat between her legs. I knew she was getting wet. Reaching higher, hotter, the moisture of her pussy changing the feel of her skin, until I lightly grazed light hairs. My finger tips tracing along just below the edge of her cunny, letting my fingertips tickle along the fine hairs. I was intoxicated, and felt her open her legs lightly, as she slid closer to the table. I lay three fingers up the center of her labia and held her by her little puss, petting her there like she were my pet. She gasped, I did it just as she reaching for her glass of water. And as she set her glass down, she reached and took hold my wrist tugging it off her puss puss. She barely moved my hand, sliding it no more than an inch, still so tantalizingly close. The heat of her. The tease! She met my eye, and I could literally read her mind.
What are you doing? You are so bad! The desire. How she loved it, and did not want me to stop my tease.
So I stroked her steadily, steadily in that space between her legs just below her pussy. Agonizingly close, just the lightest grazes of her hair, until she was literally squirming in her seat, and then the cake was out and I let go. I could smell her, her pussy smell, it was on my fingers. Mom walking over with the cake, lit up with candles. She pushed her chair away now and facing me, everyone singing, the candles are lit, and I blow out the candles as everyone sings. A few stragglers still lit. GIRLFRIENDS! Everyone chimes.