Beginning to feel an excitement of his own, Mike watched as her cream-skinned, lightly curved body revealed itself beneath the slowly upward drawn blue fabric, watching as her dainty little pink nipples, aroused by the rough pull of the dress over them, became visible, hardened. Stretched tall by her efforts, her slender little body arched leanly. Goddamn, I've got a pretty cute sister, he thought, eyeing the taut, translucent white silk panties through which her rosy, chubby cheeks of butt glowed faintly. He'd fumbled with a couple of girls before, but always in the dark, always in quick, guilty haste, and though he knew his sister was far too young to have all of the attractive signs and attributes of sex, perhaps he could learn some of the puzzling realities of the cold abstracts hinted at in the diagrams of sexual anatomy he'd furtively pored over in medical books in the library.
Stripped down to her thin panties, which now she unconsciously pulled tighter up around her waist, thereby outlining the soft fork of her thighs, and to her white knee stockings and shiny black shoes, Maryon stepped toward him again and, half-kneeling, laid herself across his slightly trembling knees, hardening the balls of her bottom in anticipated reaction to his slaps, and not noticing his quivering in her own nakedness. "Not too hard, Mike, please."
He rested one hand on her bare shoulder, beneath the fine golden hair, and let the other caress the rounded fruits of her ass, his heart pounding as the slither of silk beneath his palm sent messages to his brain, finding a queer delight in both the touch and in the thought that he was tormenting her by his waiting. "Just to make you remember it better, this'll be a bare-butt spanking." Before she could protest at the indignity, his hand had slid beneath the elastic at her waist and his splayed fingers took the panties off in one smooth movement, to rest rumpled about her thighs.
Maryon felt vulnerable, and as cool air hit her newly bared flesh she knew herself to be goose-pimpling, and for some reason she couldn't put into words, she felt a flash of anger at his further abasement, making her an object of fun, she thought, betrayed by her own body. But Mike's still fondling hand warmed her quickly and the spear of thought sank deep into her mind and vanished there…
Mike, delaying no longer, eager to get on to something else, smacked her six times with cupped hands, three blows to each cheek, producing more noise than pain, bringing forth only a tiny spot of color to the center of each firm sphere, knowing he hadn't hurt her. Maryon, he soon realized, had also figured that he'd pulled back his strength and let her off easily, for while his hand still cupped her, she wriggled herself around, sat up, and threw her arms around his neck to plant a juicy kiss on his cheek. Then, still holding on, she leaned back, regarded him, then unaccountably burst into giggles.
"Oh, thank you, Mike," she said in her outburst of mirth. "You do look funny." She buried her face against his chest.
"Why, what's wrong?" he asked, guiltily, wondering if his face was giving away his intentions. He noticed his hand still nested between her careless thighs where she'd twisted beneath him.
"You've got lipstick on your face," she giggled. Heedless of everything else, she wet a finger on her dainty little tongue and rubbed his cheek until she was satisfied she'd removed all traces from him, then sat back on his knee, her hands now going to her panties where they made a soft white ruffled band against the pale pink of her fair skin. Mike put his free hand about her shoulders, leaned forward and kissed her face, at the same time keeping his hand firm on the circle of silk at her thighs.
"I let you off a bit, Sis, because I like you, you know?" He swallowed, started to speak, flushed slightly, then blurted out. "But that's only the first part of your punishment."
She regarded him for a moment, head to one side, golden ringlets dangling. "What else, Mike," she said, putting her chubby fists on her slender hips.
"Well… well, I want to look at you, like," he said, not sure how just to put it. "Just… just lie back there, like you were just now, only the other way around."
Misunderstanding him, Maryon began to get up, meaning to rest face down across his thighs from the other side, an innocent smile on her crimson lips, but gently he pushed her back, spreading his knees apart a bit more to make her more comfortable, so that her shoulders were flat on one thigh and her own slim thighs across his black-clad one. Making a game of it, she flapped her arms above her head and let her neck bend back till her blonde curls touched the carpet. He quickly slid a hand beneath her ass to support her, and pulled at her silk panties till he clumsily slid them off altogether, pulling each knee up toward him in turn. With her shoes on the carpet and the stockings covering her to her knees, she presented her arched body to his inspection, her fragile hipbones pushing up through the whitened skin.
Maryon had been caught unawares by her brother's request. She didn't quite know what to make of it but acted quickly in a sudden flush of affection and trust. He was her adored big brother and… well, it was kind of exciting, somehow, to be spread out like this. She wondered what he was thinking. Her head became heavy with blood in her upside-down position and, grasping his thigh, she pulled herself up so that she could see down the length of her body, between the hard little cones of her coral nipples, set into the soft spare skin of her saucers of breasts, now flattened out altogether by the stretch of her body, to where a soft hump appeared above the flat horizon of her belly. She wriggled a bit to get more comfortable, and parted her legs further to let them give her more support.
Her brother's face looked strangely flushed, and his eyes excited. Not feeling quite… right, quite nice, all of a sudden, Maryon closed her eyes and turned her face to where she could rest it on the arm that lay on his thigh, snugging her head against her shoulder.
Mike slowly let his hands and eyes roam over the treasure of his young sister's body, brushing the little nipples with his fingers, tweaking gently at them, pressing them, wondering as he did so why his own hardened under his T-shirt. He let one finger of his other hand circle around her belly-button until she giggled and wriggled deliciously, murmuring that he was tickling her. He changed his circumscribing finger into a brush and let it rejoin its fellows, smoothing down and across her belly, slowly approaching that mysterious, bare mound that thrust up at the crack of her thighs. Not quite bare, though, he discovered as he bent over her, for there was a nearly invisible dust of golden down there, a small triangle of fire, tiny tight curb whose apex pointed down to the naked slot whose edges were pinker than the rest of her. He'd lost track of the proper names of things as spelled out in the books he'd seen… vulva, pubis, labia, vagina – didn't know which was which as exampled by the fair flesh offered him here, but he couldn't possibly forget the usual names, heard without meaning years ago from older boys. He slid one finger in between her hot thighs until it rested lightly over the slit, covering it.
"Say, Sis, what d'you call this?" He tapped it gently for emphasis, and his voice was low.
Maryon felt color flood her face and arms. Kept her eyes firmly closed, for the first time knowing an exhilarating sense of shame. "That's… that's my hole, Mike," she said, whispering.
"No," he muttered, a bit contemptuously. "That's your cunt. Don't you know that!?"