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Tracy By Dirty Dawg
All stories on this web site are purely FICTIONAL. The people depicted within these stories only exist in someone's IMAGINATION. Any resemblence between anyone depicted in these stories and any real person, living or dead, is an incredible COINCIDENCE too bizarre to be believed. If you think that you or someone you know is depicted in one of these stories it's only because you're a twisted perverted little fucker who sees conspiracies and plots where none exist. You probably suspect that your own MOTHER had sex with ALIENS and COWS and stuff. Well, she didn't. It's all in your head. Now take your tranquilizers and RELAX.
"Tracy" By Dirty Dawg
Standard Disclaimer : This story touches on the edges of incest, sort
of. If that subject offends you, please do not read this story.
Uh...come to think of it, the story could also technically be
classified as 'youngstuff' since the characters are not of age...
So, think again.
Prologue --------
The thing of it is, we both know it's basically wrong. But we
didn't ask for the situation to end up this way. When Tracy and I met,
we were friends, good friends at first. Slowly, over time, it grew and
blossomed until it became something much, much more, something special
and unique, something you'll be lucky to find once or twice in your
life.
It's just that we never wanted it, we never intended for it to
get this complicated. It all started two years ago.
-1-
Meet Cute
The first day of high school is always a blast. Everything is
new and special again, just like your first day of any other grade.
But there's the added excitement of being in a new school, new
teachers, new rooms. Everything takes on a unique, electric kind of
charm. You find yourself thinking ahead to all the days and weeks and
months you'll be spending here, learning, growing, becoming who you're
going to be in this world.
For me, the first day of high school had an added bonus. I met
Tracy. You see, the school sent me this little piece of computerized
paper that told me which locker had been assigned to me, and what my
classes, rooms and teachers were. When I figured out how all the
lockers were numbered, I finally tracked mine down. That's when I met
Tracy.
Her locker was next to mine. If that isn't divine
intervention, I don't know what is. I came up behind her, intending to
snap my shiny-new padlock on my locker, and saw this...goddess
standing next to my locker. All I could see was the side of her face.
She was beautiful.
A word here on Tracy's looks. I don't know how to explain it
without sounding corny, but I'll try my best. Tracy was...fresh face,
like a farm girl. She had a natural beauty, the kind of beauty that
never goes away, no matter how old she gets. She wasn't model-
gorgeous, and she didn't look like a junior slut-in-training that some
of the girls at that school did. She wasn't wearing any makeup that I
could see, but her skin was perfect. Pale, white, porcelain skin. Her
eyes were huge and round, deep blue, the color of the ocean on a
stormy day. Her nose was perfect and small and upturned just a little.
Her hair was glorious. Long and the color of honey, it hung to the
middle of her back in flaxen waves. Her smile, when she showed it, was
wide and white and invigorating. She was wearing an izod shirt and
dockers and topsiders. She looked like a vision to me. She looked
perfect.
I turned and walked away. The thought that this girl, this
perfect person, would be next to me, all year long, every morning and
every afternoon, and possibly even between classes, blew me away. I
was going to have to get to know her. There was no other option. But
then what? Would I ask her out? Could I? She probably already had a
boyfriend, some huge hunk that played football or basketball, or
worse, wrestled or boxed. There was no way this girl didn't have a
boyfriend. Life doesn't work that way.
But it was true. She was single and alone. No one had asked
her out. She wasn't flashy enough for the jocks and the popular guys.
She was quiet and studious and just a little too shy for her own good.
Her name was Tracy, and I found that out because the same
computer that had assigned our lockers together had also has the
vision and insight to assign us to the same homeroom. Freshman didn't
get to pick their own schedules, and I was astonished to see Tracy in
class after class after class that first day. I couldn't take my eyes
off of her.
The second day of class, I got to my locker early, stocking it
up with blank notebooks and paper and pens and all the shit you need
for modern education to work. I sensed her there a moment before she
walked into my line of sight. She dialed her combination and opened
her locker, inserting a lot of the same stuff into hers that I was
jamming into mine.
"Hi," she said out of the blue. "I'm Tracy."
"Steve," I said, offering a smile.
"I saw you yesterday," she started, and I paled, thinking she
was going to say that she'd seen me staring at her. "...we have a lot
of classes together, huh?"
"Yeah," I said. I couldn't think of anything more to say.
Then she turned and looked at me full in the face for the
first time. I heard this funny buzzing in my head, and felt something
strange in my stomach. Looking at her was hard; looking away was
harder. I wanted to reach out and stroke one of her cheeks with my
finger. I wanted to feel her skin under my touch. And I wanted to kiss
her so much. In my mind, I could see her leaning towards me, her eyes
slowly closing, her mouth parting just a little as we pressed our lips
together, the passion, the sweet, pure hunger between us growing and-
"Steve?"
I snapped out of it as she said my name for the first time.
"I'm sorry," I said. "I'm just thinking about classes and
stuff."
"Oh," Tracy. I could hear the smile in her voice.
***
It seemed that everywhere I turned, the fates were conspiring
to bring Tracy and I closer together. I've always been a writer
('natch) of sorts, and so one of the first extracurricular activities
I investigated was The Centurion, our school paper. I wanted to be a
journalist or a novelist when I grew up, and this seemed like a way to
get some good experience.
At the orientation meeting, I had found a seat in the back and
was settling in to become invisible when I saw Tracy walk through the
door. She spotted me and smiled, walking over to take the seat next to
mine. She leaned over and whispered, "Looks like we're the only two
Freshman," she said. I just nodded, not sure what, if any, reply was
appropriate.
I had some writing samples with me, as did Tracy. She looked
at mine and lifted her eyebrows. I handed them over. She read them
quickly, scanning them, I assume. She handed them back with a
noncommittal face on and I waited for a good two minutes before
finally whispering, "Well?"
"They're very good," she allowed. I indicated that I wanted to
read hers, and she was suddenly shy and demure. She was getting ready
to hand them over when Dr. Kelton, the faculty advisor, walked into
the room and started the meeting, saving Tracy from my critique. But
that didn't stop me from enjoying her opinion of my work, however.
We both made the paper.
But that wasn't all. Things really started to get interesting
in science class about three weeks later. In our school, if you want
to take honor classes, you have to take a test to see if your capable
of the work first. Also, you have to be invited to take that test, you
just can't ask to take it.
Dr. Kelton, who also happened to be our science teacher, took
Tracy and I aside one day after class and told us that he wanted both
of us to take the test in two months, and that we had all that time to
prepare and study. He suggested that we work together to divide up the
work and make it easier.
And that's how Tracy and I started spending a lot of time
together. That's how Tracy and I became best friends. And that,
friends and neighbors, is how I started to fall in love with her.
***
We agreed to meet at the library after school every day. Dr.
Kelton gave us a suggested reading list, and on the first day we
located all the books on the list and piled them on a table in the
reading room. There were four piles, each two feet tall. We sat back
and looked at them, then at each other, and then burst out laughing.
There was no way we could cover all the material, but as Tracy so
sagely reminded me, we only had to cover enough to pass the test. We
could learn the rest at our leisure as we took the honor courses in
the following years.
I agreed. Tracy sighed one last time, opened her purse and
pulled out a pair of reading glasses. Donning them, she reached for
the reading list and started checking off volumes, assigning some to
me, some to her. Me? I was lost. Just watching her read, seeing how
the bangs of her silky golden hair hung over her brow, lightly
brushing her eyebrows, the way the glasses perched on the end of her
nose, the way she tapped the eraser of the pencil against her perfect
pink lips...I was lost. She looked so... good. That's the only word
that fits. Good.
She caught me looking again, and I blushed, turning away.
"Ok," she said, handing me the list. "The checks are yours,
the x's are mine. What do you think?" I checked the list. She had
given me chemistry and physics. She took biology and earth sciences.
It seemed like a fair trade, and I agreed to it. We opened notebooks,
licked the ends of pencils, and reached for the books.
All that week, we met in the library after school, dug into
the books and took copious notes. I filled up three notebooks that
week. On Friday, near six, we looked at each other and just nodded. It
had been a long week and we were both beat.
"Ok," Tracy said, putting her stuff away. "We take a day off,
and Sunday we meet at my house and go over the notes. You teach me
what you learned, and I'll teach you what I learned. Fair?"
"Fair," I agreed. "What did you learn this week, anyway?"
"More about biology than I ever thought I wanted to know."
I was rubbing my eyes. "Anything in particular, or just
biology?"
"Hmm?" Tracy asked, making some final notes in the margin.
"Oh... no, uh..all kinds of things. I got a ton on sexual
reproduction." The way she said it, the casual air with which she
tossed that off, caught me by surprise. Surely, she couldn't be
dropping some sort of obtuse female hint, could she?
My fingers stopped rubbing my eyes. I looked over at Tracy,
but she was still writing notes in the margin. I figured it was
nothing and stood to leave.
But I was really looking forward to Sunday.
***
All day Saturday, I thought about Tracy. I couldn't get her
out of my mind. I had this huge mental image of her studying, the
hair, the eyes, the bangs, the pencil-against-the-lips, the whole
thing. She was perfect. I couldn't stop thinking about her. I knew
that I was starting to fall for her, but I didn't know what to do
about it. I didn't want to ask her out, in case she told me that she
didn't want to go out with me. I couldn't take being rejected by the
most perfect girl in the world. No way, no how.
So I did nothing. My Dad caught me sitting in the reading
nook, staring off into space. Since the divorce, my father has been
trying to spend a lot more time with me. I live with him, mostly
because my mother had gone off to 'find herself,' and didn't want to
be bothered with a kid. It still hurt, even though it had been almost
two years. I wished my father would date, but he was still hung up on
Mom.
"Hey sport," he said, lightly thumping me on the back.
"Whatcha thinking about?"
"A girl," I said. I could always tell my Dad anything, and I
really wanted his advice. I told him all about Tracy, and I guess I
was a little moon-eyed, because when I was done I looked over to see
my father smiling softly.
"Guess I got it bad, huh?" I asked.
"Yeah, but that's cool. There's nothing like your first love,
Steve."
"Who was your first love, Dad?"
He was quiet a moment, and then he softly said, "Your mother."
Ah, shit.
"So what should I do?"
"Just keep it even and cool for now, pal. If she likes you,
you'll know it. There's no need to rush. You've got all the time in
the world."
"Yeah," I agreed. "That was my plan."
Dad left me to my thoughts.
***
When I got to Tracy's house the next day, she answered the
door after one ring. At school, Tracy normally dressed pretty fancy.
Lots of flowery dresses and things like that. I think she wore pants
twice in all the time I'd seen her.
Today, however, she was casual. She wore a t-shirt and jeans,
and topsiders. Her hair was up today, in a sexy french braid. Her
youthful breasts were pushing softly against the well-washed material
of her shirt, and I wanted to badly to reach out and cup one in my
hand. I wanted to feel their weight and softness, the heat of her
against me. But I just smiled and said, "Hey!"
"Hey yourself," she said. "C'mon in. We have a ton of work."
Always the whip-cracker, Tracy was. I stepped inside, carrying
all my notes, and we went to her father's den. Or, what had been left
behind after her father had died. I'd learned that Tracy's father had
died in a horrible car wreck about two years ago. She was like me, a
single-parent kid.
We set up shop. I sat behind her dad's desk, in the big
leather chair, and spread out. She sat down in a huge, old leather
wing chair across from the desk, sitting indian style, and opened her
notebook on her knees. She poised the pencil above the page and gave
me the goahead signal.
For the next three hours, I delivered a lecture from my notes
on all the things I'd learned about physics that week. She took notes
very quickly, and I was amazed at how fast she picked it all up. She
asked several highly intelligent, pointed questions, questions that
told me little escaped her steel-trap mind.
We broke for a snack. We were in the kitchen, joking and
laughing as we made peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and poured huge
glasses of cold milk. I felt so at ease with Tracy, like I'd known her
my entire life. I felt like she was a person, instead of just a girl.
I know how strange that sounds now, but back then, girls were an
entirely different species.
We sat down at the table and ate our sandwiches.
I was in the middle of a bite when Tracy put hers down and
said "Danny Stoner asked me out on Friday." I paused chewing for the
briefest of seconds, and then managed to continue. I kept my face as
expressionless as possible. I'd feared this, worried that someone else
would find out what an incredibly special girl that Tracy was, feared
that someone with a whole lot more experience with girls than I would
figure out a way to approach her and ask her out. And now it had
happened.
After about a minute, I managed to croak, "Are you going to go
out with him?"
This time Tracy paused. "I haven't made up my mind yet. I told
him that I'd let him know." I digested that piece of news with the
sandwich. We finished our lunch in silence. Tracy stood and gathered
my plate and glass and went to the sink to wash them.
Now or never, pal. I stood up and walked over to Tracy. She
had her back to me, and I put my hands on her shoulders. I heard her
gasp softly.
"I don't think I'd like it if you went out with Danny Stoner,"
I said quietly.
Silence, for about thirty seconds, and then, just as quietly:
"I'm glad that you wouldn't like it." Slowly, Tracy turned in my arms
until she was facing me, her butt against the sink. She was about
seven inches shorter than I was, and she lifted her face to look into
my eyes. Her gaze was serious, unblinking, and we stared at each other
for one incredible moment.
The moment grew. Tracy licked her lips with the tip of her
little pink tongue. I didn't need an engraved invitation. I did the
One Inch Head Move. Every guy knows what that is. The One Inch Head
Move is when you move your head one inch, one single inch closer to
your girl. If she doesn't move back, or better, if she moves towards
you, you know that the kiss is OK.
Tracy moved towards me, that one single inch. Net gain: two
inches. There were still seven between us. The room was very quiet. A
bird chirped in a tree. Far off, a dog barked. Another inch. Tracy
blinked, and it was in slow motion. Her eyelids came down slowly,
paused, and then back up, her eyelashes fluttering. Her huge blue eyes
found mine again, and her head turned to the side, slightly, just an
inch. We move closer still. My fingers tightened on her shoulders.
Tracy lifted herself just a little, onto the balls of her
feet. She was so close I could feel her warm breath on my face, on my
lips. Her eyes closed a moment before mine did, and then our lips
touched gently. That first kiss was incredible.
First, there was gentle pressure. The pressure relaxed, and
Tracy's mouth opened just a little, and she kind of...sucked my lower
lip between hers. Then she released again, and then caught my upper
lip and gently sucked that one, at the same time stepping against me,
pressing her body against mine. I felt the soft, firm pressure of her
breasts against my chest and I moaned in my throat.
The kiss intensified. I felt Tracy's mouth open against mine,
wider this time, and then she reached in with her tongue and gently
licked mine, and then she ran it over my teeth. I sucked at it gently,
and then felt it retreating. I chased it with mine, and Tracy gently
sucked at it. Her hands went around my waist, and she pulled me
against her.
I was as hard as a rock, and I knew she could feel my need
pressing against her. And then the kiss ended. We pulled apart a
little, and then pressed our foreheads together. Our eyes opened, and
Tracy smiled up at me, and then she giggled.
"Took you long enough," she said.
***
Obviously, things changed after that. Tracy and I kissed a few
more times in the kitchen, until things started heating up. My hands
were aching to touch her breasts, but I stopped them with sheer
willpower.
Tracy pulled away from me and put her perfect, tiny hands on
my chest, and then put her head on top of her hands, turning her face
to the side.
"You have no idea," she said softly, "how long I've wanted you
to do that."
"Probably as long as I've wanted to do it." I hugged her to
me, and then she stepped back. "C'mon, we still have a lot of work to
do."
We went back into her dad's den and got back to work. But it
wasn't like it had been. It was her turn to talk, and my turn to
listen. Tracy liked to walk as she talked, using her hands as she
lectured me on biology. She was up to pheromones, talking about how
animals attracted each other with scents, and how some species were
mognomamous and how some were not. She was behind my chair as she
talked about species mating for life, and suddenly she spun it around,
her face an inch from mine.
"How about you?" she demanded. "Do you stay with one partner?"
There was a hint of humor in her voice, but not much.
By way of answer, I leaned up and kissed her. "I don't want
anyone else," I said. "Just you." She kissed me back, and then we
continued to study.
Later, she was talking about erosion or something like that.
She was standing in front of the window, looking out on the block,
reciting her notes from memory. I got up as silently as I could and
walked behind her.
I slid my hands around her waist and pulled her body against
mine. Tracy didn't falter, didn't even break stride. She just kept
talking about erosion as I lowered my head and kissed her neck.
"Mmmm," she said, lifting one of her hands to hold my head
against her. "That feels nice." I moved up slowly and kissed her
earlobe, and then blew a little air into her ear. She giggled. When I
gently, softly licked her ear, she groaned and twisted in my arms,
bringing her hands up to my face, bringing my head closer...and then
we kissed again, a soft, moist kiss that made me melt. The kiss
intensified again, and our mouths worked together, hungrily. Her hand
was at the back of my neck, her nails scratching my skin, pulling me
harder against her. I could smell Tracy, her clean, pure scent in my
nose as I tried to devour her with my mouth.
I could feel the hot, hard points of her nipples pressing
against me, and I knew she was aroused. But...something held us back.
Something made me pull away from her after the single most intense
kiss of my life. I started to pull back, aware that my hormones were
raging, that my arousal was almost out of control. Tracy saw the fear
and naked need in my eyes and let me go, her hand still on my face
until I stepped back.
She turned back to face the window and continued on with her
lecture. Slowly, I went back to the desk and sat down, and resumed
taking notes.
We finished about three hours later. I packed my stuff up and
got ready to leave. I was at the door, opening it, when I heard a
discrete cough behind me. Ah, that's right. Gotta kiss her goodbye!
"Oops," I said, turning back to Tracy. "Forgot to kiss my
girlfriend goodbye!"
The look on her face when I called her my girlfriend made my
heart sing. She smiled at me, and I felt the warmth of the sun. I
leaned down and kissed her softly, and then turned to go. She caught
my head with her hands and turned me towards her again. Tracy kissed
ME then, her mouth opening against mine again. We touched tongues, and
then she broke the kiss and pushed me towards the door, laughing.
"See you in school tomorrow, Steve."
"See you."
***
What happened next is probably not what you're expecting. But
in a weird sort of way, it was predictable. What happened was that on
the way home from Tracy's that day, I got hit by a car.
My mind was in the clouds, thinking back to the kisses that
Tracy and I had shared, and I stepped off the curb without looking
first. I heard a horn, a screech of wheels, and then a blinding flash
of light and pain.
And then nothing.
***
No, I didn't die. But I did break both my legs in several
places. I woke up in the hospital the next day. The doctors told me
that I'd be in the hospital for about two weeks, and flat on my ass
for about four months.
My dad was there when I woke up. He told me that Tracy was
waiting downstairs to see me, but the hospital had a rule about having
to famly or something, and she could not come up to my floor.
She was worried about me, my father said, and wanted to know if I
needed anything.
What I needed were her arms around me, holding me, but I shook
my head.
"Nice girl," my father said.
"Yeah," I managed weakly. "She's great."
"Is she the one?"
"Huh?" And then I remembered our conversation. "She's my study
partner," I said, because I didn't want my father interrogating her
about our relationship. I would live to regret telling him that.
"Her mother is down there with her," my father said, and then
his voice got a little distant. "Interesting woman, Kate." The pain
medication they were giving me took effect, and I passed out.
***
The phone woke me two days later. It was Tracy.
"Hi," she said, her voice music to my ears. "How are you?"
"I'm much better now," I replied.
She giggled. "When are you coming home?"
"About a week."
"Good," she said. "I've got some news you are not going to
believe."
"What?"
"Your father and my mother are dating!"
"What?!"
"They met in the ER after your accident. The next day, your
father called my mom and asked her out! They've been out like four
times in the last week!"
"Oh, shit!" I said.
Tracy turned defensive. "What's the matter with my mother?"
"Nothing, Tracy! But what if they fall in love?!"
"That'd be great!" Tracy said. "My mother really needs someone
in her life."
"What if they get married?!"
"Even better! I think they make a wonderful couple!"
"Tracy! If they get married, we'll be stepbrother and sister!
We.. we..can't...!!"
That got her attention. "Oh," she said, her voice suddenly
small and far away. "I hadn't thought about that."
Shit.
***
It happened. Against all odds, it happened. I got out of the
hospital about two weeks after the accident, and I spent the last four
months on my ass. I missed the test Tracy and I had started to study
for, and she passed it, gaining admittance to the honors program. I
had a nurse at the house that was there all day, every day, and Tracy
and I didn't have a single chance to be alone. Nurse Helga, as I
called her, watched over me like a mother Hawk.
Meanwhile, Dave, my father, and Kate, Tracy's mother,
continued to date. It came as only a mild shock when they announced
that they were getting married. They were so happy, so ecstatic about
finding each other that neither Tracy nor I could bear to break the
news to them, news we already both knew.
Kate and Dave might have loved each other, but so did Tracy
and Steve. Very much. And now we were going to be brother and sister.
Part II
Our parents had decided to get married immediately, if not
sooner. It was decided that Tracy and Kate would move into our house,
as we had more room. Neither Tracy or I could bring ourselves to tell
our parents about what had been going on between the two of us, and it
was killing both of us. My feelings for Tracy had not changed one iota
the entire time I'd been laid up in bed with my bum legs. And I knew
that Tracy felt the same way.
She called me every day. We talked for hours. It was
interesting; the more we were seperated physically, the closer we
became emotionally. The intimacy grew between us like a ripe fungus.
Ok, so my choice of words isn't that great, but you get my drift. We
slowly grew closer and closer.
She would call me at all times of the day and night. Mostly at
night. The phone would ring and it would be her. We would talk and
talk and talk about everything and anything under the sun. And we
wouldn't talk, too. We had these long stretches of comfortable silence
that were just amazing. We would be talking, and then one of us would
fall silent, and then the other would join in, and we would just...
stay that way for about ten or twenty minutes.
The first time it happened, I'd been home for about two days.
Tracy called me at about one in the morning. We talked about a lot of
things, and after about an hour, she fell silent and let me ramble on
for about twenty minutes. And then I fell silent. We just enjoyed it
for a little while, and then I said, "Penny for your thoughts."
"I was just thinking," she said softly, sweetly, "how much I
love the sound of your voice. I could listen to you talk forever." We
laughed, and then hung up.
Tracy was becoming a part of me. When our parents announced
that they were getting married...our world fell apart.
***
Sometimes I think parents forget what it was like when they
were our age. And then I think that what love means to kids today is a
lot different than what it meant to our parents. I mean, I know for a
fact that my parents were virgins when they married. I also knew for a
fact that I was one of the last virgins in the Freshman class of my
high school. I couldn't speak for all the girls, but I knew Tracy was
a virgin, too.
So, it was hard for us to find a way to tell them how Tracy
and I felt about each other. I could predict with certainty what their
reaction would be. "There are lots of people to date! You don't have
to date each other!" Or some such nonsense like that. Without talking
about it much, Tracy and I agreed not to bring it up. We took a 'wait
and see' attitude. After all, they weren't married yet, and until they
said "I do," anything was possible, right?
Wrong. The wedding went off without a hitch. I was best man,
and Tracy stood up for her mother. Our parents went off for a two-day
honeymoon, and then they returned to set up house. And that's when the
trouble really started. You see, up until that moment, the concept of
actually living with Tracy hadn't solidified in my head. When I
realized what the living arrangements were going to be...
You see, our house had three bedrooms. The master bedroom,
which obviously belonged to my dad and my new stepmother. My bedroom
was on the opposite side of the house, and had a common bathroom with
the guest room. Which was soon to be Tracy's room.
The day of the move was interesting, to say the least. I
helped Tracy carry all her stuff to her room, and then I put her bed
together. It was this huge canopy affair, and her entire bedroom suite
matched it. Then there were the boxes. We unloaded box after box of
clothes and books and stuffed animals and crap of every shape of
description.
I helped her unpack, and that's how I got to open the box full
of her underwear. It was your basic brown cardboard box, no special
markings or anything. I used my pocket knife to slit the tape and
lifted the flap. Inside where silk and cotton panties and bras and
teddies and all sorts of things that I knew instantly that I loved,
but couldn't put a name to.
I lifted a pair of tiny silk panties out of the box and held
them up. Tracy saw what I was doing and sreeched, running across the
room to snatch them out of my hand.
"Give me those!" she screamed, grabbing for them. I handed
them over and she fumed at me. "That's not funny, Steve!"
"Sorry," I said. "I didn't know what was in the box."
Tracy sighed once, long and hard. "I know," she said. "I
overreacted."
I smiled and leaned down and kissed her on the nose. "That's
ok. You're entitled. This has all got to be freaking you out, huh?"
"Yeah," she said, smiling. "But not as much as living with my
boyfriend is!" And then she was leaning up and kissing me on the
mouth. It was the first time we'd kissed like this since the accident,
and I remembered in a flash what I'd been missing. Tracy molded her
body against mine, and the kiss took on a life of its own. Her arms
slowly closed around my neck, my arms going around her waist and
drawing her tighter against me.
After a long, hot moment, I pulled away. "We can't," I
whispered. Tracy touched her forehead against mine, smiling wistfully.
"I know. I know we can't be alone, and we can't kiss and we
can't touch. But there's no one else I want to do that with."
"Yeah. Me too."
***
Things got kind of strange after that. We settled down into a
fairly routine existence. We were a family, and that was strange,
having a sister after all these years, especially a sister that I
shared a bathroom with. Especially a sister that I loved with all my
heart, and not the way a brother usually loves a sister.
It was killing both of us. Neither Tracy nor I had asked for
this, had planned for it. We'd met, fallen in love, and realized that
we were meant for each other. I couldn't imagine dating another girl,
and Tracy felt the same way. We were meant to be together, ew knew it.
But the fates had conspired against us, and we found ourselves
circling each other like animals.
Take last Friday. Tracy and I got up about seven for school,
and we had the usual tango about dealing with the bathroom. I went in
first to take a piss, and forgot to lock her door. I was standing
there with my cock in my hand when she barged in. Realizing what was
going on, she started backing out, but not before I caught her taking
a peek at my equipment. She smiled at me shyly and shut the door. That
made my cock hard as a rock, knowing that she had seen it (again, this
went on at least twice a week,) and I stepped into the shower with my
mind on thoughts of Tracy not only seeing my cock, but touching it and
stroking it. I was having thoughts like that more and more lately.
After I got out of the shower, I went back into my room to get
dressed. I had my socks and underwear on before I realized that I'd
forgotten (once again,) to shave and brush my teeth. I walked back
into the bathroom.
You guessed it. Tracy was getting ready to shower. Just as I
walked in, she had dropped the towel and was preparing to step into
the tub. I had a momentary glimpse of her naked body before I started
to back out the door. I shut it, hard, and sat down on my bed harder.
My mind was filled with images of her perfect body, her youthful
breasts, firm and perfect, her long, coltish legs, the soft brown down
between her legs. Everything was burned into my mind. In the six weeks
that Tracy and I had been living together, I'd seen her this way about
a dozen times, and each time it made me crazy. I wanted to get in the
shower with her, wanted to take the soap and clean each and every inch
of Tracy's body.
After the dance in the bathroom, we would go down to breakfast
with our parents, and then it was off to school. After school, it was
back home. Since it was Friday, we put our homework off and spent the
night watching TV in the family room. Usually rented videotapes,
sometimes cable TV.
This Friday, Mom and Dad decided to go out to a movie, and
invited Tracy and I along. We both pleaded tiredness and claimed that
we were going to turn in early. Mom and Dad left us alone, and just
like the six previous times Tracy and I were alone, before an hour had
passed we were snuggling on the couch watching TV.
We knew it was wrong. We knew we shouldn't do it. But we
couldn't help ourselves. I would lay on my side facing the TV and
Tracy would lie in front of me, pressing her butt back against me. My
arm was around her waist, usually under her shirt, teasing and
stroking the skin of her belly.
That constant touching just deepened the intimacy between us.
Tracy would lie her head along her arm, and her hand would tease my
hair as we watched TV. It felt so comfortable, so right, to be with
her that way. I loved the feel of her, the smell of her, everything
about her. I wanted to spend the rest of my life like that, every
night in front of the TV, holding Tracy like that, just feeling her
next to me.
Once in a while it would get to me, it would just be too much,
and I would lower my face to her neck and kiss her softly there,
teasing us both. She would let me do it for a little while, purring
like a kitten as she felt my lips against her, and then she would push
me back with her neck, telling me without saying a word that I'd
better stop, that I was getting to her. I could see her nipples
hardening against her bra, and she would moan at my touch, at my kiss.
So I'd back off a little, but we still stayed pressed
together. I know she could feel my hardness pressing into her
buttocks. She knew how badly I wanted her, and I knew she wanted me
to. What kept us apart was the fear that we'd get started, get into
it, get naked and make love on the floor, and in the middle of it, our
parents would return. We couldn't bear the thought of their
dissapointment, so we did nothing but tease each other.
We'd talked about it a lot, Tracy and I, and we'd decided that
when we were old enough, old enough to make the decisions for
ourselves, we'd see how we felt about each other then, and if we still
loved each other the way we did now, we'd date. It would probably kill
our parents, but at least we wouldn't be doing it inside their house.
Then it all came crashing down. Sort of.
What happened was that on this particular Friday night, Mom
and Dad decided to check into a motel. My father called me and told me
that he and my stepmother wanted some 'private' time alone. I knew
what they meant. They were newlyweds after all, and they wanted the
freedom to make love as loud and as long as they wanted without having
to worry about the kids overhearing. Since Tracy and I were both
fifteen, they figured we could take care of ourselves for the night.
I hung up the phone and informed Tracy that our parents
wouldn't be coming home that night. She took my meaning immediately.
We wouldn't be interrupted. We were alone. All night. Just the two of
us. Alone. All night.
I got back down on the couch, and Tracy moved against me, just
like always. But there was something new this time. She seemed...
closer, somehow. Her heat was stronger, her scent more evident. She
was aroused, hotly aroused, and she knew I knew she knew I knew.
You know?
We were watching an erotic thriller on HBO. This stripper was
running an insurance scam against a company that had hired an ex-con
as their investigator. There were a ton of hot, steamy scenes, and
before long, they got to us.
I was stroking her stomach, feeling her smooth, silky skin
under my fingers as we watched a couple make love on the TV. Tracy's
hand came down and grabbed my wrist, and I thought she was going to
pull my hand away. Instead, she pulled it up, towards her breasts.
Without a word, one of my hands closed around Tracy's perfect
firm boob. The heat was incredible. I stroked her softly, feeling her
firm, warm flesh under my fingers. Tracy's breathing got deeper and
deeper as I slowly, lovingly touched her breasts for the first time.
Suddenely, she sat up, dislodging my hand. I thought that the
night was over. It wasn't. Tracy reached underneath the loose-fitting
T-shirt and did some female magic trick, pulling her bra out of one
sleeve ten seconds later and throwing it over the edge of the couch.
She lay down against me again. My hand was on her waist. I was
terrified. I knew what was waiting for me, but I couldn't move.
Tracy's hand found mine, and she brought it under her shirt
again. I felt her bellybutton under my fingers, but I still didn't
move.
"It's ok," she whispered. "I want you to touch me." Slowly, my
hand ascended Tracy's body. My fingers touched the edge of her breast
and Tracy softly gasped. It wasn't a gasp of shock or surprise, but
arousal.
"Oh, God," she whispered, and then her hand closed over mine
through the shirt, pressing my fingers tighter against her breast.
"Stroke it," she said. "My nipple."
Softly, gently, I stroked her pink little nub. I was a little
above her now, looking down at Tracy's face as she closed her eyes and
bit her bottom lip. "I love your hands on me," she whispered. "I love
it when you touch me. I feel so beautiful."
"You are beautiful," I said. "The most beautiful girl in the
world." I lowered my mouth to Tracy's and kissed her. Her hand closed
tighter around mine as our tongues lightly touched. The kiss was
nothing but pure, sweet, clean passion. I felt her breath in my lungs
as we started to move together on the couch.
"The other one," Tracy whispered into my mouth. "Touch the
other one. Please, Steve. Touch me. Touch me all over." I moved my
hand to her other breast and felt it's warmth and heat. We began to
kiss urgently as I moved my hand back and forth, gently stroking and
squeezing her breasts and nipples. Slowly, we sat up, until Tracy was
on my lap, kissing me, my hand still under her shirt, still feeling
her incredible breasts.
Tracy broke the kiss, leaning back a little as she crossed her
arms at her waist and lifted the shirt off over her head. Tracy's hair
was up in her trademark French braid. She lifted her hands to her
head, making her breasts bobble gently in my face, and then her hair
was cascading down, covering her shoulders, the longest tendrils just
reaching her nipples. Her gaze was fixed on mine, and I knew that I
loved her, because I was looking not at her breasts, but directly into
her eyes.
Tracy's hands came down and captured my face and we slowly
approached each other, a small smile playing across Tracy's face as
she opened her mouth against mine and we kissed. I felt her tongue
playing softly, moistly against mine, and then we were Frenching
hotly, the passion growing and growing. My hands returned to her
breasts, and Tracy whimpered softly, kissing me harder.
Her crotch started to grind against mine, softly at first, and
then harder and harder as her arousal began to take hold. My mouth
moved from hers as we both gasped for breath. She was breathing hard,
sighing every time my hands tightened on her boobs. My mouth moved to
her neck, and I kissed her there, tasting her sweat and heat. I felt
her pulse beating under my tongue as I licked the hollow of her
shoulder.
"I love you so much," Tracy whispered. "So much, Steve. Make
love to me. Please, Steve, make love to me."
I pulled back and stared at her. "Are you sure?" My voice was
small and scared.
"Yes. I'm sure. I've never been so sure of anything in my
life. I want to make love with you. Here. Tonight. Just the two of us.
All night."
She got off of me and found her shirt. Holding it shyly in
front of her body, hiding her breasts from my view for the moment,
Tracy said, "Give me ten minutes. Then come to your room."
And then she turned and left me sitting there.
Part III
I sat there, stunned, looking at the sweep-second hand on my
watch crawl around and around again. The ten minutes crawled by, and
then it was time to go upstairs and discover the surprise Tracy had
waiting for me.
The trip upstairs took a thousand years, and then I was in
front of my bedroom door. I opened it and stepped inside, and heard
myself gasp. Tracy was on my bed, the covers turned down. She had
draped some sort of thin, gauzy red scarf over my bedside reading
lamp, casting the entire room in a hazy, erotic shade. Tracy was lying
on the bed, wearing a royal blue teddy, her long honey-colored hair
brushed out and fanned around her head. She had applied the tinest
amount of pink lipstick, and she looked good enough to eat.
I approached the side of the bed and stopped, just taking the
delicious sight in. Tracy rolled onto her side, facing me, propping
her head up with her hand.
"You like?" she asked, and I could hear the desperate need for
approval in her voice. I nodded, once, twice, and then spoke: "I love.
I love you, Tracy. More than I could ever say."
She got up on her knees and made her way to the edge of the
bed. Her hands came to my shoulders and she squeezed, smiling at me
with an expression I'd never seen on her face before. Her hands moved
to the buttons on my oxford, and one by one she undid them, tugging
the tail of my shirt out of my jeans.
Tracy lowered her face to my chest and kissed me directly
between my nipples. I felt her tongue come out and lick my skin
softly. I groaned, feeling my own breath speeding and deepening.
Her fingers traced my muscles, finding my masculine nipples
and teasing them gently. Her mouth closed over one, and I knew some of
what she felt when I played with her nubs. The feeling was moist and
hot and exquisite. She raised her face to mine and we kissed again,
our mouths opening, our tongues touching softly, wetly.
"Get naked," Tracy said with a giggle. "I want to see all of
you." I sat down on the floor, hard, and kicked off my topsiders,
using my fingers to get rid of my socks. Standing, I unbuckled my
belt, undid my trousers and lowered them to the floor. I was wearing
my boxers and nothing else. My hardness poked at my shorts and Tracy's
eyes widened.
"I knew it was big," she whispered, "But I had no idea!" And
then she giggled when she saw my expression. "Don't worry, Steve. I
want all of it inside me before the night is over!"
She held out her hand. "Come to bed." I took it and joined
her. We lay on our sides, facing each other. Tracy slung one of her
legs over my hip and we stared into each other's eyes. Tracy used one
forefinger to trace my face, stroking my jaw as she smiled softly. I
dropped one hand to her leg, stroking her thigh and the bottom of her
rump.
"This feels so...right," Tracy said, echoing my own thoughts.
"I know," I whispered, kissing her gently. "I could stay like
this forever!" Her hand stroked my chest as she kissed me back.
I slid my hand up Tracy's body to her shoulder and lowered the
strap of her teddy. Her breast was slowly revealed to my gaze, and
Tracy watched me watch her. I lowered my mouth and took her erect
nipple between my lips, licking and sucking at it gently. Her nails
dug into my chest as she moaned at the contact.
"I love it when you touch me, Steve. I love the feel of your
body against mine. I love the fact that we're going to make love to
each other tonight." She pulled my head from her breast and gazed
deeply into my eyes.
"This is the first time for the both of us," she whispered,
"and I want it to be as good as it can possibly be. Let's go real slow
and find out everything about each other!" I just nodded and kissed
the tip of her nose, but she wasn't done yet. Pushing me back gently,
she once again held my gaze with her own. "Listen to me, dummy! I've
been doing some reading about...sex and stuff." That surprised me, and
then again, it didn't. Tracy had always been a research hound. When
she wanted to learn about something, she gave it her all.
"And what did you learn?" I asked.
"That there's all kinds of things we can do to each other that
feel good. Some things you probably know about...and some you might
not." That caught my attention, too. What kind of books was she
reading, and were in the hell had she gotten them?
"What I want to say, Steve...once we do this, there won't be
any going back. I know myself. I'm going to want you even more after
we do this. But, because of the way things are, we aren't going to be
able to be together as often as we want. So, I want to try lots of
things tonight, lots of different things. Things that you might think
are...gross." I knew what she wanted. She wanted me to eat her pussy.
I had no problem with that.
"Tracy," I said, putting a silencing finger to her lips.
"Listen carefully to me. You know me. I'm not like most guys. I'm not
in this to get my rocks off. I want to share this with you, I want to
remember this night for the rest of my life. If I do it with you, and
it makes you happy, it could never be gross. No matter what it is."
And then I kissed her gently, opening my mouth against hers, sliding
my tongue between her lips. We Frenched hotly for a few moments, and
then my hands returned to Tracy's breasts. One was naked and free, the
nipple poking delightfully into my palm the other covered with the
silk of her teddy. Both feelings were exquisite.
"If there's anything you want me to do," I whispered,
"anything at all, just tell me. If I do something wrong, or too fast
or too slow, just tell me, Tracy. You can tell me anything in the
world. I'll always love you, no matter what!"
"Oh my God, Steve!" Tracy cried, using one of her hands to
crush mine against her breast. "This feels soooo goood!" She gasped,
and then kissed me, hard. "The same goes for me, lover. Whatever you
want me to do, just ask me. If you want me to do it to you, or with
you, then it can't be gross."
"Promise me one thing," I whispered.
"Anything."
"I want you to buy a lot more of this sexy underwear. I love
looking at you in it, knowing that you're wearing it for me, to turn
me on, to make yourself look sexy for me." Apparantly, I'd said the
right words, because Tracy went insane then, kissing and licking my
mouth and face.
"When's the last time you masturbated?" she asked.
"Last night," I answered honestly, a little startled by her
question. "Why?"
"Because the first time is going to be a little fast for you,
and I don't want to ruin our first time by having it end too fast. So,
I thought maybe you'd like me to..."
"To what?"
Quietly, her voice tiny, she said, "Suck your dick." She
blushed at her words, and I held her face in my hands again. "Inside
this room, when we're making love, you can use any word you want.
Sometimes, it's fun to be a little nasty, right? It adds to the
excitement. We're already doing something we shouldn't, and that makes
it a little more nasty."
Tracy nodded. "Then let me do it. Let me suck your cock!" The
way she'd said 'cock,' I knew that Tracy had been thinking about doing
just that. I lifted my ass off the bed and lowered my boxers, letting
my cock bob into view. Tracy's eyes lit up as she took in my throbbing
erection. She slid her way down my body, rubbing her silky breasts
over my hairy chest and abdomen, heading for my crotch.
My six and one half inches of thusly-untried cock was pulsing
with need and leaking precum. "I've never done this before," she said,
"so tell me what you want me to do."
"Start by jerking it lightly, sis." Tracy blushed when I
called her that, but her dainty hand wrapped gently around my hot,
firm meat.
"Oh!" she squealed. "It's so hard and soft and hot!" And then
she started slowly moving her hand up and down my cock, gently
frigging me off. "Is this right?"
"A little harder. Grip it just a little harder." She did, and
a tiny drop of precum oozed from the tip. I watched in gape-jawed
amazement as my girlfriend/sister/lover's mouth slowly descended to my
cock. She reached out with her tiny, wet, pink tongue and scooped the
shiny drop off the top of my dick. The moist, raspy contact of her
tongue against the head of my sensitive meat made me moan and jerk in
response.
Concerned, Tracy looked up at me from between my legs, her
eyes shiny with lust. "Did I hurt you?"
"No, not at all," I managed to gasp. "That felt wonderful! Do
it again, please. Now! Please." Tracy grinned a Cheshire's grin at me
and lowered her mouth to my prick again. She planted a kiss on the
head, and then opened her mouth and licked it again. She continued to
kiss and lick my cockhead, getting it wetter and wetter as she went
along.
"Are you sure you want me to continue?" Tracy asked.
END PART III
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