Hot Night in the Kitchen with Sis

Emma did not hesitate. Her arms swept up and the tight white tank top rose with them. In a second it was over her head, and it went flying to the side and fell on the floor. Emma stood in front of Aaron wearing an underwire push-up bra.

Emma's hands went behind her back, and Aaron noted the moment when the clasp was undone. The skimpy white bra shivered and slumped. Emma shrugged her shoulders and the bra gave way and in a moment it, too, was on the floor.

Emma stood in front of Aaron, topless.

Holy shit, my sister has nice tits, Aaron thought. Somehow, though he'd known her all his life, Aaron had not realized how large Emma's breasts were. They were full and round and upright. They defied gravity with the arrogance of youth. They stood firm and away from her torso, the nipples long and pink and hard. When he realized he was staring at his sister's breasts he looked up at her face, and she was looking at him.

"Emma," he said. "I don't know about this. I'm not an expert on breast inspections. I'm just an intern, and it's not something I'm really trained to do."

"You've done them, though, right?" she asked.

"Yeah. Some. Not a lot."

"But you can do it, right?" Emma sighed. "I know it's unusual, but I can't bear to wait another week and I trust you. Please?"

Aaron couldn't say no to his sister.

"O.K.," he said.

He approached her. She turned to him and her breasts shook, slightly, in front of him. Aaron was a conscientious doctor, and he had seen many naked bodies, but he found it more difficult than normal to look at his sister's nude torso with a purely objective, medical eye.

"Which one?" he asked.

"The left one," she said, inclining her chin toward it.

He put both hands on her breast. With one hand he pushed against his sister's breast and made small circles against her skin with three fingers, moving clockwise around the circumference. His hand moved deftly and quickly. He felt awkward and did not want to prolong the examination one moment longer than necessary. Finally, his fingers circled toward her aureole, and her nipple pressed down and sprung back up when his fingers passed over it. He moved his fingers around it and felt her carefully, and he took his hand away when he was done.

"I didn't feel anything, Emma," he said. "It feels fine to me."

Emma closed her eyes and sighed loudly, relieved.

The buzz of an alarm sounded on the oven. Emma jumped, and her breasts jiggled.

"That's dinner!" she said. "I have to take it out."

Emma reached to the floor, grabbed her white top, and pulled it back over her head, pushing the hem down until it sculpted and molded her torso again. She did not look quite the same as before, Aaron noted. She had not put her bra back on. The natural and no longer pushed-up contour of her breasts made that clear, as did the pokey nobs pushing up against the white cotton of the tank top where her nipples lay under it.

Emma slipped on oven mitts, opened the oven, and leaned over to retrieve the rectangular dish. Aaron was startled at the prominence of her nipples, now in profile under the tank top.

"Voila!" she said, setting the dish on an empty stove top burner.

Aaron was getting increasingly agitated at seeing his sister this way. His mind still reeled at having seen -- and felt -- Emma's bare breasts just a minute earlier. He had turned off his doctor mode and was back to being a brother who was not accustomed to seeing his sister's bare, full breasts. But Emma's attention was fixed on the food. She leaned over the pot containing the bisque. Aaron noticed gentle bubbling on its surface. Emma closed her eyes and smelled the aroma coming up from its surface. She seemed pleased. With the mitts still on her hands she picked up a heavy spoon, dipped it into the bisque, and raised it to her mouth.

"It's almost done," she said. "I'll let it simmer for a few minutes. The beef bourguignon should stay hot under the lid. The potatoes should be fine, too."

The smells coming from the stove top were heavenly. They almost diverted Aaron from his feelings about his sister. It was all Aaron could do to keep his eyes on his sister's face, and not her tits, pointing straight at him.

"Are you O.K.?" she asked. "You look pale."

"Well," he said. "It's just . . .."

"I know," she said. "That was a little weird. I'm sorry if it bothered you. But it's a big relief to me."

She stirred the contents of the pot with a large wooden spoon.

"So, Aaron --" Emma began, and stopped.

"Yes?" Aaron asked, grateful she seemed to be about to change the subject.

"I noticed you looking at the photo of you in the living room. The one I took of you four years ago."

Emma had Aaron's attention.

"Yeah, I did," he said. "What about it?"

"We never talked about what happened that day," Emma said.

Aaron paused.

"What's there to talk about?" he asked. "It happened. It shouldn't have happened. But we can't change it."

Emma did not respond right away.

"You say it shouldn't have happened," she said. "But why not?"

Aaron was nonplussed. "What do you mean?" he asked.

"I mean I've never regretted what happened on the mountain that day. Not for one moment. And you know what? I don't think you regretted it either. If you say you do, I don't believe you. You seemed pretty enthusiastic at the time."

Aaron didn't say anything for a while. When he did, his words came slowly and haltingly.

"Why do you bring it up?" he asked. "What's going on?"

Emma looked away.

"I told Riley about what happened. She wanted to know all the details, so I told her. I told her everything. I told her about how good it felt when you put your hands on my side and you pulled me close when we were on top of the mountain. I told her how good it felt when we kissed. I was embarrassed. I thought she'd be disgusted, but I told her anyway. The words just spilled out. I couldn't help myself.

"And you know what? She wasn't disgusted. When I was done she had this huge grin on her face. And you know what she told me? She told me she'd had the hots for her brother for years. They're twins. They've always been close. Once, not too long ago, they got a lot closer. She told me about it over a bottle of Chardonnay she and I finished off one night. She had her brother -- Ryan -- over for dinner. She seduced him over dinner. They ended up doing it on the floor of the living room. I was visiting mom and dad that night, so she and Ryan had the apartment to themselves."

Emma paused and pointed vaguely in the direction of the other room.

"Do you know who she's with right now? Her brother. She's visiting him at his condo on the beach. They're going to do it again. That's what she says, anyway. I don't know if he knows, but that's her plan. And Riley's pretty good at getting what she wants.

"Before she left, she told me I should seduce you. Riley always thought you're kind of hot."

"Kind of?" Aaron couldn't think of anything else to say. He was struck dumb by what Emma was telling him.

"Well, big brother," Emma said. "You are kind of nerdy. You're good looking, but, you know."

Aaron didn't know what to say. He reeled at Emma's words.

"Why are you telling me this, Emma?"

Emma said nothing. She looked away from Aaron, up at the ceiling. She looked to the stove top. The bisque bubbled. She grabbed a big spoon off the counter and dipped it into the bisque and put the spoon to her lips. Steam arose off the pinkish broth.

It was too hot, because when she put it to her lips she instantly pulled the spoon away and said "Hot!"

The spoon tipped, and bisque spilled onto Emma's white top, over her left breast. She gasped, and she shrieked. "Hot!" she cried again. Steam arose over a large dark stain of bisque on the white top, directly over her nipple.

Without any hesitation, Emma whipped the top off and threw it to the floor. She was topless again, her breasts pointed firmly and saucily toward Aaron. A hot oily bisque stain coated her left nipple and the surrounding area of her breast. Steam rose off the stain on her nipple.

Aaron's and Emma's eyes locked, and he looked away from her to her breast.

"It's burning me," Emma said to her brother.

Aaron moved to her. He took her hips in his hand and his mouth went down, to her nipple, taking it in, sucking it in between his lips. His tongue went out and it caressed and slurped over the breast, covering every trace of the steaming bisque. When he pulled back, the bisque was gone from her breast, but his saliva remained. It sparkled in the kitchen light.

"Thank you." Emma panted as she said it, her chest heaving.

Emma's left hand shot forward and grabbed the short hairs at the back of Aaron's head. Aaron did not move. With her right hand, Emma scooped up another spoonful of bisque from the pot. She brought it slowly toward her face, never taking her eyes off Aaron's.

Then she poured half a spoonful of the steaming bisque in the spoon onto her right breast. She whimpered when it streamed over her pink nipple.

Aaron needed no further prompting. He pushed his head forward and closed his mouth over his sister's right tit. He sucked up the bisque. Then he licked and cleaned up the residue that remained on her breast. Emma moaned while his mouth was on her.

Aaron felt both Emma's hands at the back of his head, pulling on his hair and holding his face fast against her chest.

"Don't stop, Aaron," she said.

Aaron pulled his mouth away from her sticky breast. "You don't stop, either, Emma." His mouth went back to her, his tongue lapping over her nipple, her areola, and the lambent skin of her breast. His hand pushed the breast up, so he could run his tongue along the underside of it. When his mouth reached her nipple again he bit down on it, gently, but with just enough force to make her whimper. After biting her tit his mouth watered over it and his tongue pushed it back and forth.

When he was done feasting on her breast he pulled back, but only for a moment. He saw the look in her eye, and she saw the look in his. They pulled their faces toward one another and kissed, open mouthed, tongues out and searching one another, arms around each other, grasping and pulling.

Aaron felt a hand on his crotch, searching and then squeezing. The hardness straining against his pants was uncomfortable. But Emma was there to relieve his discomfort, fumbling with his belt until he felt it loosened, and then frantically unbuttoning and unzipping him. Emma succeeded, but then she shifted her attention. Her hands went to his shirt, pulling it up from the bottom. Aaron raised his arms and Emma pulled it over them and off him. They were both topless.

Emma's eyes twinkled, and Aaron saw her grab the spoon and dip it into the bisque. She moved it toward him, the stainless-steel sparkling under the kitchen light. With her free hand, Emma pushed against Aaron's bare chest. He gave way, pushing back against the chair.

Emma poured the bisque over Aaron's chest. He cried out at the touch of the neat-scalding liquid on his skin.

Emma came to his rescue. She dropped the long spoon on the floor and pressed her mouth over her brother's bare chest. Her tongue lapped up the bisque everywhere it found it: on Aaron's nipples, on his lean and firm pectoral muscles, on his abdomen. Emma's tongue scoured Aaron's body in rapid, eager slurps. Soon the bisque was gone, but his chest was sticky with the residue of the bisque and his sister's saliva.

Emma wasn't done. Her hands fumbled over his pants, loosening the button and pulling the zipper down. Her hands found the belt loops of his pants; she pulled them down his thighs. He resisted at first, but then he lifted his butt off the floor and let his sister have her way. In a flash Aaron lay on the floor of his sister's kitchen, stripped down to black boxer briefs.

Emma jumped on him. She pressed her bare chest against his. She grabbed his face, hard, and she kissed him, even harder. Her body writhed on top of his. Her face mashed against his.

They went on like that for a few minutes, twisting and pressing against each other. A bout of panic hit Aaron. He pushed Emma up and away.

"What are we doing?" he asked. "What is this?"

Emma didn't answer him right away. She stared at him, the expression on her face in flux: amusement, desire, and curiosity playing over it in equal parts.

"We're having dinner, big brother," she said, finally.

Emma stood up and away from her brother. From his position on the floor he could see under his sister's short skirt. He caught a glimpse of her pink panties. He felt himself growing hard.

I have to stop that, he thought. But he didn't stop.

He stood up to resist the temptation to keep looking up her skirt, but it didn't help much. He stood uncertainly to the side of the kitchen, his eyes on his sister, topless and long-legged in the tiny skirt. Against his will, his eyes zeroed in on her breasts, swaying from side to side as she tended to the food on the stove top.

Emma pulled two soup bowls out of a cupboard and poured the steaming hot bisque into them with a long-handled ladle. She flicked a dollop of crème fraiche from a small spoon into each bowl.

"Take a seat," she said, gesturing with an elbow to a circular table centered in a small dining room opposite the kitchen. Aaron walked to the table and took the chair on the far side, so he could watch his half-nude sister, still cooking in the kitchen. The table was sturdy and made of dark, fine-grained wood.

For a few minutes Emma did not look the part of seductress, despite her toplessness. She was a chef, an artist, in her element, gathering the food she'd cooked with expert economy and grace. She opened a stainless-steel bread maker and pulled out a loaf. She plopped it into an oblong wicker basket. Steam rose off its crust, and its scent carried across the room to Aaron's grateful nose. He closed his eyes and breathed in. When he opened his eyes, she was carrying the bowls of bisque and the bread loaf basket on a large platter to the table. She set the table and with a long plastic lighter lit two tall skinny candles in pewter holders. She backed up a few steps to turn the kitchen lights off. Their dinner was lit only by the flicker of light from the candles and the soft glow coming from the living room.

"Dinner is served," Emma said. "Bon Appetit."

She didn't sit down immediately. Instead, her hands went to a button at the front of her skirt. The button popped out of its hole. Emma shrugged her hips. The skirt fell down her legs, to the floor. She stepped out of it. She wore only pink lace panties and high heels.

"Do you like them?" she asked Aaron.

"Like . . .." Aaron's head swam.

"My panties," Emma replied. "Do you like them?"

Emma turned around, and Aaron's gulped as he saw the way the thin band of pink lace low on her waist disappeared into the crack of her ass. Emma's ass was perfect. Everything about her was perfect. As beautiful as she was under the bright kitchen light, she was bewitching under the uneven and flickering light of the dinner candles.

"You look amazing, Emma," Aaron said. He didn't know what else to say.

"Thank you, Aaron," she said. "I wanted to look good for your birthday."

Instead of sitting down, she approached Aaron's side of the table and reached for the bottle of red burgundy. She bent in an exaggerated manner at the hips to pour the wine slowly into her brother's glass, and Aaron could not help but notice the perfection with which her breasts hung from her body in front of him, the sharp points of her nipples aimed at the table surface. When she was done she circled around to her side of the table, poured wine into her own glass, and sat down.

She raised her glass.

"To my big brother, Aaron," she said. "Happy Birthday."

"Thanks," Aaron said, weakly. It was surreal -- his sister in front of him, nearly naked at the dinner table.

"I'll bet you didn't expect this for your birthday," Emma said, eyes sparkling in the candlelight.

"Uh, no," Aaron said. "I didn't know what to expect, but I didn't expect this. You were always good at surprises, but this is the biggest one yet."

"I always liked keeping you off balance," she said.

"You always did. You still do."

"You were easy to keep off balance. You were so serious. Always studying. It was so much fun teasing you and fooling around with you." Emma paused and smiled. "I was a brat, wasn't I?"

"God yes," Aaron said. "You were such a brat. It seems charming now, I guess, when I think about it, but it didn't seem charming at the time. Just annoying."

"I liked annoying you. I didn't mean anything harmful by it. I always wanted to get your attention. Sometimes it was so hard. You were always focused on something."

Emma paused. Aaron ate a few spoonsful of the bisque, watching Emma's breasts rising and falling with her breaths. Emma ate too, but her eyes seldom left his. Emma broke the silence.

"That's what I can't figure out," she said.

"What?" Aaron asked.

"What you did on the mountain. My serious, studious, older brother. Who never broke a rule. But you grabbed me and kissed me. What made you do that? I never asked you. We never talked about it. It's driven me crazy ever since -- wondering why you did that."

"I don't know, Emma," Aaron said, looking down at his plate.

"I don't believe that, Aaron," Emma said. "I think you do know. Maybe you don't want to say what you know. But I think you know. You don't want to say it. But I want to hear you say it. Why did you kiss me, Aaron?"

Aaron looked up from his plate to his sister. His eyes swept her nearly nude body, pausing over her full breasts and hard nipples before they settled on her eyes, staring intently at his.

"I don't know why I kissed you, Emma," he said. "That's the truth. Before that day, I would have thought anybody who predicted something like that would be crazy. I always knew you were pretty. But I never looked at you that way. But that time on the mountain . . . it was different. You were sweaty and dirty. And you were my sister. But you were so beautiful. That's what I remember. Your face in the light of sunset. Your body. I didn't have a girlfriend at the time. But when I saw you there, on the top of the mountain, I thought, that's what I want a girlfriend to look like. I'm sorry."

"You don't have anything to be sorry about, Aaron," Emma said. She shifted her attention to the food. "We better eat before it gets cold."

Emma and Aaron ladled spoonsful of bisque into their mouths for a few minutes. The taste was subtle and exquisite, but Aaron had difficulty paying attention to his food, as delicious and aromatic as it was. He kept sneaking glimpses of his topless sister across the table. Every time he did, he saw her catch him looking at her. She smiled.

Emma shook her shoulders when Aaron looked up from his bisque at her. Her breasts swayed, and he caught himself starting to moan with desire. Emma grinned. Then she leaned forward. Her breasts fell away from her chest, and she aimed one hard nipple at the bowl of bisque below her. She dipped it in, swirled it in the bowl, and withdrew it. A firm pert breast was coated in the orangey-pink bisque. Emma tore off a piece of steaming French bread, and she rubbed it over her nipple. The flaky fresh dough soaked up the bisque. Emma leaned across the table, and she offered the soaked bread to her brother's mouth, which was open in surprise and need. He couldn't resist. He opened his mouth wider, and Emma pushed the piece of bread in. He savored the soft texture of the bread and the flavor of the bisque, knowing it coated his sister's tit a moment before. He swallowed and closed his eyes.

This can't really be happening, can it? he asked himself. His beautiful sister was sitting across the table wearing nothing but pink panties. The culinary assault on his senses scrambled his brain and made it difficult to think straight. Even when his eyes were closed the steamy, fishy scent of the bisque filled his nose.