“What do you feel like doing tonight?” she asked, sliding her hand under my tee shirt and rubbing my belly, my chest, and then sliding her tingling fingers down under my belt.
“I want to turn out the teevee, turn out the lights, go up to your room and fuck all night,” I said.
“You've got a one-track mind, Terry,” she said. “You're a sex maniac.”
“Oh, am I? Well, what did you have in mind? What was it you wanted to do?”
“Same as you. You made a sex maniac out of me today.” Her hand grasped me so firmly I practically came in my pants.
Her tone changed suddenly: “Do you really think Mommy's going to come?”
“Ah, she won't be here for a while. We'd better take advantage of all our privacy, though. Sure you don't want to watch this great teevee show they've got on?”
“No.”
“What do you want to do, then?”
“Go to bed with you, Terry.”
I rose and kissed her fiercely. We switched off everything in the living room and went upstairs to her room.
While she went into the bathroom I stripped off my clothes. Then, impatient, I pursued her and sat on the tub alongside her as, stripped to the waist, she washed her beautiful face. When she had finished I moved to embrace her from behind, managed to grasp her breasts momentarily, but she slipped away and headed back into the bedroom.
I washed, brushed my teeth, relieved myself and after some time, returned to her room. She lay flat on the bed, still wearing her panties. I walked up next to her. She must have fallen asleep the minute she hit the sack. I touched her gently on the shoulder and she didn't move, merely let out a low moan that sounded like a cat's purr. I slid my hands under the elastic of her panties, pulled them down over her hips and dropped them onto the floor.
I sat on the side of the bed, staring dreamily at her naked body. Now that everything had come to a halt all of a sudden, I found it hard to believe that such beauty was mine to love and to possess-that my sister, whom I had loved above everything else all my life, was mine to do with as I pleased. It seemed incredible, and when I started playing with myself I realized it was time to go to sleep with her.
I switched off the light and lay down alongside her, draping my right arm up her belly and resting my hand on her breast. I lay sideways, facing her, and the feel of her smooth thigh against my stiffening cock was too much to bear. I had to plunge it into her or I would burst.
But she was asleep. Would that be rape? Would she be mad at me? I decided to do it as gently and slowly as possible, without using any unnecessary force at all.
I slid quietly over on top of her body, sucking softly on ore of her nipples. She purred again, and the nipple stiffened in my mouth, but she didn't stir. I moved up slowly, planting soft kisses along her breasts and throat until my hips were in position over he's and her soft clump was brushing and tickling me to the kindling point.
Guiding myself with my hand, I slid in the head between her sweet, yielding folds. A sigh escaped her: still asleep. Moving with tortuous caution I slowly slid up all the way into her. When my thighs were sweating against hers, when I could rub my sensitive abdomen against hers, I relaxed and buried my head in her long hair loose on the pillow.
I began slowly to move out, and when I had slid well away from her, to push back in. After a few smooth, long, delicious strokes I relaxed into her again, not at all desperate for immediate satisfaction after all the glorious climaxes I'd already had that day. I felt tired, as tired as Sandy must have felt when she plopped down onto the bed and fell asleep. I lay there for a long while on top of her, plunged all the way into her, moving only the slightest bit with our breathing. Then I joined her in sweet sleep.
What I dreamt was this: I dreamt I was fast asleep on top of my sister, we were both naked, and that we made subtle, juicy languorous love all night. My eyes were shut, I was fast asleep and dreaming, but there was no difference between the dream and the reality, they were identical.
Then, in the dream, I fell asleep again and dreamed I had the same dream. And like a flower that endlessly opens to new buds and fresh flowers I kept falling asleep inside the dream only to dream once more the sensual reality that Sandy and I, both asleep, were performing on her bed, in the flesh.
As dream of sleep was followed by dream of dream; dream of dream of sleep followed by dream of dream of dream of love, the locale changed. At first we were in Sandy's room, there was no tampering whatsoever with reality. Then, as the mirrored reflections became more elaborate we were in my room, in the forest, among the flowers; we were making love in my room at school, at my room in the city; then the locales became more fantastic and elaborate-jungles, beaches, royal boudoirs, harem rooms, Roman orgies, opium dens of the east, clouds of flowers, pure shuttering rainbows of light; in the flames of hell, and among the gorgeous copulating angels of heaven.
Then the whole process began to reverse itself as I began to wake up, stage by stage. In every case I would wake from the previous dream, only to finally find myself, in a wash of ecstasy, actually fucking my sister after all.
With each awakening, as I moved closer and closer back to reality, this ecstasy intensified. I began to move a little less languorously, a lot more passionately, and I noticed that Sandy had begun, from dream to dream, to move with me.
At last the original dream, the first dream of Sandy and me, in the dark, in her room, returned and I thought I was finally awake, that the dream was true after all.
Then I awoke from that dream as well. I opened my eyes to the greyish red light of dawn and looked down to see Sandy squirming rhythmically under me, looking up and glowing with shock, surprise and the same furious joy I felt.
“Am I really awake now?” I moaned. “Is this really you, Sandy, in the flesh?”
“Yes,” she purred.
“Prove it to me, I've been dreaming too much. Pinch me or something.”
She responded by digging her fingernails into my buttocks and pulling them into her furiously. For added measure she bit my ear, and when I cried out in masochistic glee, she lowered her teeth to my neck.
I responded by attacking her like a mad rapist or a jack-hammer. She began to come immediately, bucking like an unbroken filly. We crashed together in a head-on orgasm that packed into several minutes all the pleasure, all but unbearable, that we'd been building up to all night long.
When our howls and moans and vows of total adoration, slavish worship had begun to level off into deep, satisfied breathing, I asked Sandy when she had woken up.
“Just before you did, almost at the same time. That's how come I had that funny look on my face.”
“How come?”
“Because I was surprised,” she said.
“How come?”
“Because I was dreaming about you.”
“So was I,” I said.
“Well, everybody dreams about themselves, stupid.”
“No, I mean, I was dreaming about you. And me.”
“Me too,” she said.
“That's quite a coincidence.”
“Is it?”
“Yeah. How many people have the same dreams at the same time?”
“Well,” she said, “if more people slept the way we just did, maybe they'd have the same dreams, too.”
“You've got something there,” I said. “So have you.”
EIGHT
We talked and played with each other until the burgeoning dawn light was shining in our eyes. I was tired. I buried my head in Sandy's delicious breasts and started to go to sleep.
“Hey, what are you doing?” she asked.
“Going to sleep.”
“Why don't you go to your room for a few hours?”
“What for?”
“Oh, I don't know. Somebody might come in, and catch us sleeping together.”
“Boy, you've really got snoopers on the brain. What are you scared of?”