Julie

Julie was naked as she walked right past me into the bathroom without a word. I was expecting that, but the sight of her meaty apples bouncing free had no less effect on me, cock twitching in response. She grabbed a towel and the folding wooden stool, and placed them both beside the shower. Only after she had run the water to a satisfying temperature did she turn around to look at me.

“Please,” she asked, “could you come in with me and wash my back?”

I couldn’t help but gape at her a second, and then I blurted “What the hell is wrong so you can’t do it yourself?”

She dropped her shoulders pleading “It’s my arms; I can’t get them to reach the right places without it hurting.”

“You were all right yesterday.” I said. “What did you do to hurt yourself like this? Masturbate all night?”

“No, don’t be silly. It’s PE. Apparently he’s very good at using his dick, Melanie said so, but his expectations of us swimming are bonkers. I’m wrecked.”

I insisted, “Again, you seemed fine last night. What’s changed?”

“Oh, come on, you know. It’s one of those types of pain from exercise you only feel after you’ve slept a bit and the adrenaline drains away. It helped numb it a bit last night when you fucked me.”

I did know. I probably had the same complete pretty-boy nincompoop of a PE teacher. So, Julie had a point, at least within the logic of an environment where siblings being naked around each other and fucking each other was a mundane reality. I was much chagrined, but, as always, I couldn’t very well decline.

“Fine. I’ll wash your back.”

She did a sort of aborted bounce of joy, as the jerky movement apparently woke dormant cramps in her ankles, but she quickly recovered. Her overeager breasts bounced again regardless. I discarded my now visibly tented pyjama bottoms and followed her into the shower.

The water was hotter than I was used to, but I soon acclimatised. Julie handed me a bottle of shower gel, turned around, and I got on with what I had caved to do. I covered her skin with bubbling foam from the neck down to just shy of her buttocks, and then gently scrubbed it with the sponge. Through the sponge I could feel her skin was smooth, the flesh underneath firm and toned. It was a struggle resisting the want to touch her more frankly. When I was done on her upper half I repeated the procedure on her legs and bum. In spite of myself, I enjoyed lightly massaging her cheeks, and running the soft ball of mush over the almost imperceptible boundary between her thighs and her buttocks. By the sounds she was making, so did she.

When I was done and still kneeling to rinse off her calves she turned around, planting her feet a bit wider apart than was strictly necessary. We made eye contact only after I had gotten an eyeful of her crotch. I stood up and, smiling, she offered to return the favour, noting that she had interrupted me for my help. I put up token resistance, she insisted, and I ceded. She didn’t have me turn away from her, just took the bottle of gel and sponge from me and started lathering me with the stuff. She dropped her gaze to my swelling cock, lingering on it, and I took in the sight of her frontal nudity mere inches away. Water dripped through her plastered-down hair onto her shoulders, past her collar bones and cascaded down her jutting breasts, little droplets dashed to even smaller droplets at each impact.

She knelt in front of me washing my lower half. She cleansed my legs, my feet, even my balls and erect penis, but kept it deliberately non-sexual as a thinly-veiled tease. Then she turned me around and did the same, lingering on my backside, apparently enraptured by it. I don’t know why male bums get so much attention, but I didn’t complain. She continued up my back, feeling where the muscles were through the sponge, coming up all the way to my neck, where I had started on her. But she didn’t end it quite there. She pushed under my arms, and, under the pretext of doing the pits she snaked around to my chest from behind and ever so lightly rubbed her nipples against my back, before pulling away. There was nothing of the strange psychedelic agent currently warping my thoughts, but the heat, the gel, the sponge, the hints of Julie’s skin against mine and the unavoidable intuition of what was coming next were wreaking just about as much havoc. At the slightest nudge from her I turned around one last time to face her, and saw her expression mirroring what I suppose mine would have been: lusting anticipation.

She put the cleaning lotion and the sponge up the in-cabinet shelf slowly, and then took a step back so she was fully under the steaming water. I took a step forward. She bit her lip and reached out, touching, grabbing hold of my cock at last with intent clear. I let her stroke it to its full state of engorgement before moving closer and getting a feel of her. I palmed her breasts, and squashed them gently this way and that, feeling the warmth of the water and the warmth from within. I moved even closer and ran my hands up to her shoulders, and then pulled her in towards me. I shut my eyes to keep the water out, and the next thing I know we were kissing passionately. I readied myself to have to fight myself, to have to hold on to sobriety, but nothing happened. On her lips I tasted the foreign agent, but it was feeble and impotent. Julie released my cock, complaining of persistent cramps in her arm, and instead reached around me to pull me against her, squashing her breasts with my chest. Below I grabbed her bottom and pulled it towards me, grinding my cock against her stomach, her bush tickling the base of my shaft. We writhed together continuously with slowly mounting urgency. The water was slowly making us too hot, and as our discomfort grew so did the urge to fuck. I think we were both holding out to see who would give in first.

In a moment of lucidity it was I who lost the endurance game and cut the flow of water, deciding to try and get this over with. By that point we were already touching genitals, my cock between Julie’s thighs and rubbing up and down her slit, just poking between the lips. I reached behind her, and had her lean back against my arm. She rotated her cradle so I could enter her more easily, I gave the first thrust of my hips, and I was in. For the second time I fucked her, rocking back and forth deep inside her wet pussy as it shifted and pulsated around me. She held on to me by my shoulders as I picked up the pace, gradually accelerating until penetration was almost brutal. She didn’t seem to mind, just craned her neck forward to carry on kissing me.

I went a tad weak in the knees as I started coming in Julie’s pussy, and was lucky not to slip on the watery shower floor. In three final thrusts I was done, having spewed a full load of cum in my adoptive sister’s cunt. The stuff dribbled thickly out of her after I pulled out, making a valiant effort to hold out against dissolution by the still dripping hot water on her body.

As I stepped out of the shower into the irresponsibly steamed-up bathroom with the now opaque mirror, damp stack of towels and hygienically compromised bars of soap, I smelled a rat. It was bad enough that I had yet again had to fuck someone to save my neck (enjoyable though it was), but that wasn’t all of it. Fortunately I didn’t have long to ruminate on whatever might be poisoning the atmosphere aside from the water vapour: after rinsing my sperm out of her pussy, Julie came out and tugged my arm. I turned back towards her, and she looked quite frustrated.

“I didn’t come.” she said, “I couldn’t rub my clit because of my bloody cramps, and you didn’t do it either, you selfish bastard. Are you going to rush off to school now, and leave me like this? I suppose I can’t compare very well to your Carmencita if this is how it goes...”