Anthea s baby 1
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The PowerChapter 5: First Date free porn video
Saturday evening found me waiting in the foyer, dressed in a new charcoal gray suit, black shirt and tie, and new black loafers. I had switched my usual hickory cane for a new brass and black lacquered model that the ladies had bought me for Christmas and was feeling quite dapper and dashing. Sue and Mom were upstairs doing some final primping and I was nervously eyeing my watch. It was after 7:30 and we had 8:00 reservations at a nice restaurant just outside the city limits. Then Sue came down the stairs, with Mom discreetly following, and my jaw dropped just like most of her other boyfriend’s. A hoarse “Hubba, hubba.” gurgled out as I fought to stop staring.
Mom had outdone herself prepping Sue for her night out. First was the dress, a light gray wrap outfit with wrist-length sleeves, a vee-neckline, and a hemline that barely reached mid-thigh. It fit her like a second skin and showed off every curve, and Sue was a very curvy girl. Sue’s legs, which seemed outrageously exposed, were encased in very sheer and very black stockings or pantyhose, and she never wore black. She also never liked to wear high heels, and tonight they were three-inch-tall black stilettos. Sue’s hair, which she normally wears long and loose to the middle of her back, was done up high and held in place with a black pin in a style which I still can’t name but really liked. Sue almost never wears makeup - tonight Mom had applied a light but deft touch that simply screamed sophistication. Sue was even wearing a new perfume. Whatever its name, the bottle should have been labeled ‘Rape Me!’
I couldn’t help but stare. My baby sister didn’t look anything at all like the fifteen-year-old cheerleader she really was, but more like a woman in her early twenties. Like in the movie Hot Shots, she looked hot enough to fry eggs and bacon!
Sue was getting nervous standing there before me, with me simply staring. Finally, Mom said, “Well, say something, Paul!”
I closed my mouth and let out a loud wolf whistle, at which Mom laughed and Sue blushed from her head to her toes. Stepping up to her, I took her right hand in mine, then bent over it and kissed her hand. “Enchante`, mademoiselle, would you care to accompany me to dinner?” I asked, to which she blushed again.
I got Mom’s dress coat from the closet (Sue didn’t have a good dress coat), then put on my own new trench coat. Tucking her right arm through my left, I led her to the door. As I opened the front door for Sue, I turned back to Mom, who could barely contain her laughing, and said, “Don’t worry, ma’am. I’ll have your daughter home before the crack of dawn.” Mom promptly exploded in a paroxysm of laughter and shooed us out. I led Sue down the walkway and held her car door for her.
The Courtesy Police had no complaint with me that evening. I opened doors, pushed in chairs, escorted properly, and with every nuance of decorum. Not that I wouldn’t have anyway, but I took extra care this evening. It wasn’t difficult since Mom had drummed it into us for years. From just about the time we got out of diapers, Mom had been assiduously training me to be a gentleman and Sue to be a lady. Above and beyond the usual “Yes, ma’am”, “No, ma’am”, “Please”, and “Thank you”, Mom expected me to be an old-fashioned Southern gentleman.
For instance, I have never witnessed Mom open a door in her life. If I was present, I was expected to open the door. If I forgot, she simply stood there waiting until I remembered. If I ran around the car and climbed in before her, she simply stood there until I got out, went around, let her in, and apologized. If I barged through the entrance to the mall, she would call me back and have me hold the door for her. For her part, Sue was taught to demand the same sort of treatment. Mind you, she wasn’t rude about it. As long as I let Mom through first, I always received a gracious thank you.
The high point, or low point, if you will, of Mom’s Courtesy Campaign occurred when I was fourteen. I was sentenced to six months of cotillion classes. For the Damn Yankees in the audience, cotillion class is a combination finishing school and Arthur Murray for proper young Southerners. Every Tuesday night at a local church, I learned the rudiments of etiquette and ballroom dancing. I learned the basic box step for both the waltz and the foxtrot, with an occasional rumba thrown in to spice things up. One wears a coat and tie to cotillion class. After two weeks of this torture, I thought I had an out. My Scout troop changed its meeting nights from Wednesday to Tuesday, so I figured I could escape, but no, Mom had other things in mind. She would rush me over immediately after Scout meetings, me in my uniform, to the invariable and pithy comment that, “Women love a man in uniform.” Sue thought this was absolutely hilarious, and bugged me about it mercilessly, right up to the day when my mother enrolled her, to Sue’s absolute horror. Actually, the ballroom dancing part has proved fairly useful over the years. It’s a dying art.
Mom has always been a stickler for good behavior in public. She refused to take us out when we were smaller until we were ‘civilized.’ I remember one time when I was about thirteen or so, when we went out to a restaurant, and I had to hold Mom’s and Sue’s chairs. An older party next to us noticed and one of the women complimented my mother and me on my manners. Mom thanked the lady, but I grinned and said, “If I don’t, she’ll whack me on the head.” Mom hooted while the other table laughed, then grinned, stood, and whacked my head.
Personally, I think Mom has seen Gone With The Wind one too many times.
So, anyway, I was on my best behavior as I took Sue out. We started late and got to Cathedral Farms about fifteen minutes late. They had already given our table to somebody else, and Sue was looking nervous. {Find us a table!}I thought to the maitre’d and allowed him to escort us to the bar until we could be seated. Here I used The Power to keep from being thrown out, even though neither of us had anything more intoxicating than coffee or Coke. I got Sue to relax, and she began to enjoy herself.
Cathedral Farms is a fairly nice place, rather large, with a good-sized bar on the side where bands typically play to a twenty-something crowd on weekends. More than a restaurant, less than a night club. By the look on Sue’s face, it was obvious that her previous dates had never taken her anyplace fancier than the pizza place in the mall. She tried to act sophisticated and didn’t really get away with it, so I simply told her to calm down and act herself. She gave me a brief hurt look but got over it in a hurry when the maitre’de came to show us to our table.
Dinner was several courses, but I had pulled out of the brokerage account about five-hundred bucks, so I knew I could more than cover anything we ordered, even if we were ordering a bunch of booze, which we weren’t. I gave it some thought, to be honest; using The Power would make it easy to get looped. However, The Power would not allow me to drive home drunk, which scared the living hell out of me, so it was easy to resist the temptation. Once I got to college, I managed on any number of occasions to indulge, but that was the extent of my substance abuse. When my reality was a comely lass naked on my lap, I have never felt the need to use drugs to alter my reality. Besides, Sue let me know in no uncertain terms she did not need me to order booze to be a big man, since my heroics with Jackie Malloy had put stars in her eyes about me anyway.
I commented briefly to her that it had been no big deal. He hadn’t known what he was doing, whereas I did. Further, I explained the ‘stand up to them’ theory of handling bullies, which I had last put to good use in elementary school. This really didn’t work, so I shifted the conversation elsewhere. It seemed like no time at all had passed when I paid the bill, but a glance at my watch showed it was after 9:30. A band could be heard coming from the bar, so I escorted Sue in there. It was too early to take her home from her ‘big date.’
I almost thought we were going to have to stand until I noticed a couple leaving from a front table. Some quick thinking sent out a {Don’t sit!}to several people near it as we threaded our way forward. Some further {Let us stay}s to the waitress and bouncers enabled us to be served, me with more coffee, Sue with another Coke. It was a decent local group; they played a number of local bars and clubs.
After we finished our first round of drinks, Sue very shyly asked if I wanted to dance. I was surprised, since I am her brother, but Sue was definitely into the ‘big date’ mode. Somehow it felt wrong, so I simply waved my cane and said my leg was bothering me. Sue was put out for only a minute or two, because, wouldn’t you know it, the next tune played was a slow ballad. She promptly stood and grabbed my hand, arguing, “This won’t hurt!” and dragged me out onto the dance floor. As a precaution, I hung my cane over my chair so we could find our table again.
The band was playing a set of slow songs, so I was stuck dancing with my sister for over fifteen minutes. After a few minutes, I almost forgot that Sue was my sister, but was simply dancing with a lovely little redhead with big knockers. When I felt those beautiful breasts pressing against my chest, and my hands roamed across her back and rear, I immediately got a hard-on. This caused me to wake up, as I felt it press against my sister’s crotch. I missed a step, but Sue led me through it. She, too, had noticed, but rather than push away from me, had rubbed her body against mine, placed her head on my chest, and continued dancing. With considerable confusion, I kept dancing, and it was with considerable relief that I led her back to our table when the set was over.
Our table was still there, but the only chair left was the one with the cane hanging on it. A group at another table had dragged Sue’s off. Again, I looked a bit confused, until Sue came by my side. “Sit,” she ordered, then once I had moved my cane and sat down, Sue faced away from me and sat down on my lap. She twisted around to a ninety-degree angle and put an arm around my shoulders and looked around at the band and crowd.
It took me about two seconds to look down at her and redevelop my raging erection. Her dress had ridden up her legs enough as she sat for me to clearly see the tops of her black stockings. They weren’t pantyhose, but long, thigh-top stockings, and the lace elastic bands showed, with a hint of creamy flesh above them. Her dress also seemed extra tight, wearing it this way, and her tits stuck out unbelievably. As my dick painfully stretched out down one pants leg, I idly rubbed her back with my freed hand, confirming that, yes, she was wearing underwear, but it didn’t seem very substantial. After that, I simply clasped my hands around her waist as she leaned back against me.
We had another round of coffee and Coke, then I danced with Sue for another couple of slow songs. It was after midnight when I could grab my cane and lead Sue out to my car. Driving home, I was surprised to note that her dress tended to hike up quite a bit higher than when we had driven to the restaurant. Once again, if I took my eyes off the road, I could see her creamy white thighs above her stocking tops.
The lights were out, so I knew Mom was asleep, when I unlocked the door. I whispered to Sue to be quiet, and we went inside. “I’m going to sit down for a while in the living room,” I whispered.
“Okay. Care for something to drink?” she asked.
“Sure. Iced tea if we have any.”
I went into the living room and collapsed on the couch, kicking off my shoes and loosening my tie. Sue came back in a few moments later with a couple of small glasses of iced tea, explaining that that was the end of the pitcher. I shrugged and was again surprised when she sat down on the couch next to me, and not in her usual place in an armchair. She crossed her legs seductively, keeping on her high heels, and was silent as we sipped our tea.
Finally, I set my glass aside and Sue put hers on the table in front of us. I turned to her to kiss her cheek good night, figuring to grab my shoes and glass, and go to bed. As I turned to face her, my puckered lips were shocked to find not her cheek but Sue’s lips, puckered to kiss mine. Shocked, I drew back slightly, only to find Sue gently reaching up to my face. Holding me in place, she leaned back in and kissed me again, full on the mouth. Lord but did she taste sweet! After several moments of kissing, I pulled back again, to look into her eyes with confusion.
“Kiss me, Paul,” she whispered. “Just like a real date. Hold me and kiss me.” Then Sue closed her eyes and leaned back in, kissing me and slipping her tongue between my lips and teeth to wrestle with my tongue.
My confusion was instantly replaced with concern. It seemed as if Sue wanted me to act not like I was treating my sister but my girlfriend! Mind you, the only use of The Power I had was to simply tell her to act like we were on a date, and for Mom to reinforce this, nothing else. I had no idea she would take the suggestion so literally!
I am living proof that when God was handing out body parts, he gave men both a brain and a dick, but not enough blood to use both at the same time. Or as the saying goes, a stiff prick has no conscience. I kissed her back. Sue was a pretty good kisser. That “Sweet Sixteen and Never Been Kissed” business was just so much horsecrap!
By now I was leaning back against the arm of the sofa and Sue was leaning into me, lying against me on my chest. As she kissed me, I reclined further and, as if by second nature, raised a leg, sliding it between hers. Sue responded with a moan and wrapped herself around me even tighter. In moments, she had brought up a knee of her own, to rub into my crotch and along the length of my improbably hard erection. The hem of her short dress became even shorter, sliding up her thighs, and I found my knee rubbing into her pantied pussy. As I allowed my hands to roam over her back, they went low enough to touch her ass, now covered only by what seemed to be a very small and thin pair of panties. They sure didn’t feel like cotton!
Sue moaned once more and pulled her body slightly away from mine, although she didn’t stop kissing me. The next thing I knew, a hand was between us, probing for the buttons of my shirt. She loosened one and went searching for another.
I gently pushed her away from me. “Sue? What...?”
Sue had a look of confusion on her face as she sat up. “What’s the matter, Paul? Don’t you want me to ... well, you know?”
“Yes, I do know,” I said. “And I also know I’m your brother.”
Sue looked down in her lap briefly, then looked up at me. I could see tears forming in the corners of her eyes. “It’s just, well, the girls at school, and Mom, well, I figured maybe you could, you know, uh, show me the ropes.”
“Show you the ropes? The way you were going, it sure wasn’t a rope that you were going to be shown!” I was incredulous.
A muffled sob escaped Sue as she turned away from me. As she rose to leave, I grabbed her by the hand and pulled her back down. She still wouldn’t face me, but I pulled her face against my chest. She was crying as I asked, “Now, what have you been hearing about me? What girls?”
We talked as she lay against my chest. “Well, I talked to Jenny and a few of the other girls you’ve dated. They all said the same thing, that after a date with you they ended up in bed with you, and that you were great in bed, and really knew what you were doing, and...”
“What, they told you this?”
“Sure, girls talk about everything. And I asked Mom...”
“Hold on.” I was shocked. “Mom told you to sleep with me?”
“No, silly. She just said that she hoped that someday I would meet a boy like you, somebody strong but gentle. Someone who cared. So, I figured, if everybody thinks I should give myself to somebody like you, why shouldn’t I give myself to somebody who is you? Why shouldn’t you be my first, well, you know?” She looked up at me hopefully, the tears staining her makeup.
Well, if that don’t beat all! Not that I had a major problem with incest, not with my screwing Mom several times a week. By now I knew that the moral taboo was historically related to the very real dangers of inbreeding, which the Pill had outdated. Still, here was Sue coming up with this plan to seduce me when I was simply supposed to be a pretend date. “Jesus! You’re serious, aren’t you?” I asked.
Now Sue looked angry. “What’s the matter, big brother, I’m not good enough for you?”
“Christ on a crutch! It’s not that. I mean, half the guys in school would give their left nut to be with you. Are you sure you want me to be the one?”
“Yes,” she said, firmly.
I exhaled loudly. “Okay, I guess.”
Sue looked up at me gleefully with a tear-stained face. “Um, so what happens next? What do you want me to do?” Suddenly, she was no longer the vamp, but the innocent schoolgirl she really was. I snorted with derision.
“Okay, first things first, you go to the bathroom and clean the tears from your face. I’ll be damned if when you are telling some wide-eyed kid about your first time, you’ll have to say you were crying.” Sue laughed at that and sat up. “I have to go to the can as well, so I’ll meet you down here in five minutes.”
“Should I change into something or wear something special?”
What in the world? Did she have her trousseau upstairs? “Let’s not get too complicated, honey. Just meet me down here in a few minutes, okay?”
Sue nodded and went upstairs to the bathroom. I used the bathroom off the kitchen to relieve myself then went back to the living room. I turned off all the lights but a corner lamp, which I dimmed, then tossed my jacket and tie onto the couch. I had spread out a comforter on the floor and was tossing some throw pillows to one end when Sue came back. She had removed most of her makeup when she cleaned her face, and now looked well-scrubbed and wholesome, which competed with the sexy outfit and perfume I could still smell. She pranced up to me, and I leaned in to kiss her quickly on the lips.
“Um, what now?” she asked. “Should I take my clothes off?” Her hands moved to the side of her dress where it wrapped and attached at her left hip.
Mhairi
- 02.01.2021
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