Farah by Mystic47
Discover the tantalizing tale of 'Farah by Mystic47'—an erotic sex story that explores passion, desire, and the depths of intimacy. Dive into a world of seduction and temptation where every moment ignites the senses. Perfect for those seeking an exhilarating read, this gripping narrative promises to captivate and thrill. Read now!<br/>
She took the bottle of beer and rolled it across one breast then the second. The heavy, cold condensation clinging to the glass soaked the shirt over her nipples. When she was done, she had a wet spot at the end of each breast, her nipples stood rigid against the chilled wet cloth. , Farah is my step-sister. My mother married her dad even before we could remember so she was by law and in my mind my full-blooded sister. I got adopted by dad so we even have the same last name which adds to the validity of our kinship. She and I had a pretty good sibling relationship most of the time, I didn’t hate her; sometimes I even felt like she was more of a friend than a close relative. We were completely comfortable with each other and could talk openly which helped a lot when either of us had problems or worries. We even talked about personal stuff like ambitions, dreams, and our fledgling love lives. She knew when I first had sex and with who and I knew when she gave up her virginity. We talked about how sex felt and who we were with when we did it. We were even relaxed enough around the other that we sometimes didn’t bother to get properly dressed before venturing out of our rooms. I mean she doesn’t panic and shriek in embarrassment when I chance upon her in bra and panties and she knows the color patterns on several of my boxer shorts.
It was the first weekend of summer; our parents were invited on a boat trip and since my sister and I were both teetering on adulthood, me being 19, and Farah 17 they decided we were mature enough to live alone for three days and nights. Our parents would leave us alone but there were conditions. They would be calling the house and speak to each of us sometime after 10 to make sure that we hadn’t destroyed the house or maimed each other over the day. I’m sure the call was more for Farah than me, she was still a ‘minor’.
“Can we have a party?” was the first question out of my mouth when the weekend was being planned. Mom conferred with dad and allowed us to have a limited holiday fest in the back yard but everyone had to be gone by 10:00. We had to make sure all the guests and their parents understood the conditions before they left so Farah and I made the phone calls while mom and dad coached. However, they didn’t tell us what we could or couldn’t do for the rest for our unsupervised freedom. And that was the first thing Farah asked me when we found ourselves alone in the kitchen, “What are you going to do for the other two days?”
“I don’t know but we have to be here after ten so we can talk to mom and dad when they call.”
“Yeah,” she smiled slyly, “but they didn’t tell us we had to be alone.” I liked the way my little sister thought.
We planned a bar-b-que for Saturday. That gave us Sunday and Monday with nothing to do but I was sure that our fertile minds would come up with something, or somebody to use up those days too.
It started well, a friend and I charred ribs on the grill while everybody else played games and swam in our pool. There were a dozen of us, six boys and six girls, nice even numbers. I was hitting on Susan hard and she was flirting heavily with me. Farah was being real chummy with a kid named Sam. It was a party, no parents allowed so around dark, about the time the neighbors couldn’t see without obviously prying, someone broke out a few bottles of brew then the darker the sky became the livelier the party got.
The music was blaring, beer was flowing and several of us were chasing each other around the yard, playing a form of dodge ball with water balloons. We were trying to soak the girls in a quest for the best wet t-shirt and the girls were trying to bomb us with balloons at the same time. I had just hit my girlfriend Susan in the back with a blue water bomb when Farah snuck up on me with one in her hand, I feinted left and took off.
Farah was chasing me through the yard in her t-shirt and bikini holding the water balloon trying to throw it on me. I stopped behind a bush and snared her by the waist as she flew past. She dropped the balloon and squealed as my fingers went to her ribs. She was squirming and twisting her body, her butt rubbing on my crotch as she tried to get away from my grip. She spun in my arms, facing me and tripped over her own feet. As she lost her footing she grabbed my shoulders to keep from falling but we both ended up in a tangle of arms and legs, crashing to the grass.
When we stopped bouncing we were in the classic missionary sex position, I was lying between her spread legs, my cock pressed firmly into the junction of her thighs. It took only a second to realize just how compromising our position was, Farah blushed deep red and turned her eyes away from mine. I pushed up off her with my arms which caused my groin to press against her body hard enough I could feel the soft form of her womanhood through the thin layer of the bikini briefs. My cock thrilled at the close contact and she burned even redder. I got off her and she scrambled away, glanced quickly at the front of my trunks then ran back to the party.
Later I managed to chase Susan into a shadow and wrestle her to the ground where she and I began a promising exploration of each other. Just as I slipped my hand under the waist band of her briefs Farah found me, “Ross it’s after 10, mom and dad might call anytime.”
Susan rearranged herself, kissed me goodbye and left with the rest of our friends. I had a hard-on that refused to believe the night was over, my swim trunks bulged with the evidence of my frustration and I was pissed at my sister because she had interrupted my quest to get laid.
Our parents didn’t call until 10:25. While we waited Farah and I cleaned up the mess from the party. By the time we were done I was over being mad and my cock had lost hope and shriveled to its normal useless state. We talked about our friends and what we planned for the next night. I told my sister that Susan was coming over and we were going to finish un-finished business. She was going out with Sam. Once the call with dad was over she and I went back out to sit by the pool to enjoy the warm night and the last of the illicit beers. She still had a t-shirt over her swim suit, I was in my trunks.
I opened a bottle and held it out to Farah but before she took it she pulled her arms inside the shirt, unclasped the top of her suit, shrugged it off her arms then dropped it from under the shirt. She stretched her arms back through the sleeves then massaged the grooves in her skin where the close fitted halter had been rubbing her. She grabbed the beer and relaxed back on the chair while I stared at her tits under the thin cotton. I’d seen her braless in shirts many times before but this time was different, looking at the dusky brown hint of nipples pressed against the fabric caused a ripple of lust in my balls.
Farah studied my face then asked “What the fuck are you gawking at?”
“Your tits, they’re looking good tonight.”