6 Sister's Birthday Gift

Sister's Birthday Gift

Grant comes tied with ribbons.

In the pearlescent dawn light of her bedroom Macy used my left bicep as a pillow and snugged my right hand between her small breasts. Spooning, we drifted in and out of sleep that Saturday morning in June, finally together for a night after Macy's last work trip. The air under the covers was a hot mix of musk and sweat and the faintest hint of her shampoo. Her warm butt conformed to my cock as it swelled and hung quiescent in turns, my dreams of sex nearly as vivid as the real life fornicating we'd engaged in the night before. Nearly all of the night before, hence the slow rising.

She stretched and wiggled against me. I grasped her hip and pressed back. With her right hand Macy pulled my cock between her damp thighs and clamped me there. Her finger traced my corona where it protruded.

"Mornin', she whispered. I growled in her ear and got a lobe between my lips.

"Pomegranate," she said with a tinge of regret.

"We haven't even started," I protested.

"Remember we're on the Acela to Manhattan in a couple hours," she gave my knob a quick squeeze, "I badly need a shower."

I moved my cock slowly against her, feeling the tug of her sticky flesh. "A quickie?" I murmured.

"Save it for Katie," she sighed. "Grant, I feel so safe with you. I'd love to keep you all to myself, but that's just why I want to give you to her."

With that she unwrapped herself from my embrace and disappeared to the bathroom, lithe, naked and humming. I lay there wondering if her birthday surprise for Katie was going to be as awesome as she hoped.

After all of our fantasizing about her sister in bed with us, I guess Macy just couldn't resist the urge to make it real. And so she was going to give me as her gift - a strange way to be introduced to her family. But it also told me that this woman who played the field held me in special regard. We weren't exclusive. In fact, independence was a core principle, as was a fierce sexual honesty. Everything else seemed pedestrian.

Would my meeting Katie, however her sexual plans transpired, lead to Macy wanting to meet my parents? She kept asking about my 'mentors' and I kept being vague. Dad wanted an anonymous shot at my girlfriend and I couldn't refuse. It wasn't yet my place to forbid it, especially as we shared mom. If I were completely independent and gave up fucking my mother he would respect my boundaries, but I wasn't there yet. So my dilemma - convince Dad that Macy could be a fourth in our incestuous family while having enough confidence in the woman that she would accept our 'situation', the Brown Family Way. I took as gospel his warning that any other response would require me to silence her. He said what he meant and meant what he said, simple as that.

So maybe joining Macy and Katie in an improvised, potentially incestuous romp of their own would move the game forward.

I hadn't followed her to the shower, not wanting to have to fight the urge to nail her. She wanted me to save it for her sister, so I waited to take my shower til after she was done. Shortly it was time to catch the metro to DC for our train.

Riding the train seemed the most domestic, prosaic thing we'd done together. Hiking and dining and fucking were dating-type things to do. Sitting on a train for an afternoon felt more 'married', like ordinary people.

My parents were right that we lived in a fishbowl world in DC. We nodded at several K Street people that we knew in the dining car. I imagined a detective piecing together our relationship from fragments like this. They were known to be associated and were seen traveling together on several occasions.

My phone buzzed. A text from Macy right beside me.

[It would be cool to be kidnapped]

I replied, [You mean tied up and taken away somewhere?]

[Where I can't get away]

[Ravished?]

[Repeatedly]

[By two men?]

[Repeatedly]

I looked at her impish grin and replied, [I can arrange that] thinking of dad and I and a cabin in the woods.

[You say you know a guy...]

[I know a guy]

We kept on like that for a while and a plan began to form. Dad and I and a cabin in the woods... somehow I'd have to keep his identity secret from Macy, though she'd seen him that first night we met at the Fourth of July gala.

**********

The Moynihan terminal in Manhattan is a great improvement over Penn Station next door and the best thing is still that you're right in the middle of NYC the moment you step off the train. Macy and I each just had a single shoulder bag and we jostled our way across several midtown blocks to meet her sister at Franchia, the vegan asian place on Park Avenue.

It wasn't the height of summer, but it was warm and noisy and smelly on the street. I enjoyed watching Macy stride confidently down those sidewalks in her silver silk shift, cinched at the waist with a crimson cord. From the way it lay on her ass she was in a thong and nothing else under there.

I could enjoy the stimulation of New York for a day or two, but I couldn't take that many hurrying people for very long. I already pined for the solitude of Brown's Mountain. The dim serenity of the restaurant was welcome after the elbowing crowd.

In the few minutes before Katie arrived I felt my apprehension and observed Macy's anxiety masked in eager anticipation. Macy pulled out a wide, white ribbon and tied a fancy bow on my left wrist. Then the cute woman pictured on Macy's shelf approached our table. She'd taken on a bit of New York style since the photo.

Katie still had the glasses, but they were with a self-consciously thick, dark frame. And her auburn hair curled full and shiny to her shoulders. The deep green harem pants hung from her shapely butt with an elegant, soft drape. I'd been expecting the shy librarian that Macy'd described in her fantasies, but this Katie didn't hide her assets under shapeless sweaters. No, her swell of cleavage was on display, the partly unbuttoned safari shirt of deep blue setting off the brass of her hair. I stood to greet her and pulled out a chair.

Macy jumped up and practically threw her lithe self into her sister's arms.

"Happy birthday!" she squealed and bounced in the embrace.

Katie looked over her shoulder surprised and a little uncomfortable, though with a tolerant air. "You came all this way for me? We could have Zoomed."

"I told you I was bringing you a present that I couldn't ship." And Macy looked meaningfully at me. "This is Grant," she smiled.

Katie wasn't slow. She was a Columbia post grad, after all. She threw a deeply suspicious look at Macy. "You weren't kidding about his size..." She took a long look at my six-foot four-inch, muscled frame in levis and polo. "The beard's a nice touch."

"I told you I'd find you a real man."

"A mountain man, you said," she extended her slim hand, "Pleased," she said, then sat down with a practiced, lady-like grace.

"The trip was worth it," I said, looking appreciatively at her. "You've paired those vintage separates very well."

Katie looked properly surprised at my compliment, "Macy's told me stories about you. But she tells lots of stories. It's her job. I'm never sure what's true." Katie's smile was affectionate and she laughed when Macy sat by me. "Honestly, I think this 'present' joke is pretty good."

"It's not a joke," Macy protested.

Katie looked at her sister with a benevolent patience, but also stole an appraising glance at me.

Macy said, "I brought him here for you to fuck," crossing her arms and looking determined.

Katie looked apologetically at me and crossed her arms, too, squeezing up some breast flesh. "That's ridiculous. It's just like you, but it's ridiculous, Macy."

"We're going to your apartment and you're going to have the best sex of your life."

"Not going to happen, Macy," then she turned to me, "No slight intended, Grant, but I don't know you." I gave her my most self-possessed and penetrating look. She blinked, faltered and looked aside, saying, "Macy's been the adventurous sister, not me."

"That's the problem," said Macy, grasping her hand. "I'm bringing you a no-risk gift. A safe adventure, if that's not an oxymoron."

"I came here to have dinner with you and your guy, Macy. Let's just order, please."

Macy knew when to press and when to pull back. "OK, right...sorry, let's just eat and whatever. I still want you to have a happy birthday."

She pulled the satin ribbon from my wrist and coiled it in her tiny bag. I suspected a tactical retreat.

The menu was asian fusion with the vegan twist that made for a light and tasty meal. We three chatted about our lives, our work, our childhoods. I tried to be modest and Macy tried to oversell my landed gentry pedigree. About the sisters I learned more from their interaction than from the details they shared.

They were competitive though they had very different personalities; Macy, obviously the first-born extrovert, Katie the baby, introverted and daddy's girl. It had been tough with divorced parents, figuring out who to please. Even though Katie was only three years younger than Macy, she'd taken her time getting out into the world. They both could be perfectionists and each was vying to impress the parents.

I knew that my air of authority and confidence would influence Katie. So I was happy to give the idea of sex with me time to simmer while we chatted. I'd seen in her eyes the connection I'd made with that one intense look. Like with other women, the desire for proximity to an alpha-male would percolate in her unconscious and she'd want me even if she denied it.

Macy's silk shift flowed over those pointy little nipples like water. The woman was completely at ease in her body, while her sister, carefully adorned in her stylish vintage rags, sat stiffly. Katie had an over-choreographed manner. She had the outward form of sophistication, but I saw the uncertain girl underneath. Macy flowed like the silk, laughing, loose, likely to say something raunchy.

"I'll tie him up if that makes you feel safer," Macy said out of the blue while we shared a piece of Black Sesame Pie.

Katie closed her eyes, touched a finger to her cleavage, swallowed, sipped the last of her wine, then looked her sister in the eye.

"I'm not having sex with Grant," she said firmly, though a blush rose into her cheeks. I would bet her panties were a bit sticky. Katie's look at me told me that her body might be sending signals that her brain was trying to deny. My return gaze smoldered with restrained power. I put my hands on the table and let them lie there. Women found big, calloused hands comforting. They liked to run their fingers through the thick, dark hairs of my forearms. Katie's fingers twitched on the tablecloth.

"Your apartment's just upstairs in this building, right?" said Macy. "You can have this man in fifteen minutes." She ran her hand along my arm and Katie watched.

"Why would you share him?" Katie whispered.

"Because," Macy grinned, "I love you."

She reached and held her sister's hand, making a circuit of our flesh. Did Katie feel the hum of it?

I reached and took the sister's other hand gently in mine. It lay there curled like a little bird, warm and soft. She wrapped her fingers around my thumb reflexively. She squeezed it, then let go with a flinch and pulled her hand away. Katie squirmed in her seat.

"I suppose I should offer you some after-dinner coffee..." Katie dabbed her napkin at her lips and pushed back her chair, looked toward the bar. "Where's that check?"

*********

Ten minutes later we followed Katie into her sixteenth-floor apartment. From the corner windows I could look south at the red, white and blue illuminated Empire State Building and west into the variegated, darkened canyons of midtown. The distant sky held the last amber glow of sunset. The lights of evening traffic flowed block to block far below us. Katie began prepping the coffee she promised. Macy wrapped her arms around me from behind as we watched the city simmer.

"I've got some Ground Support here." Katie called from her galley kitchen, "It's Nicaraguan...kind of chocolaty...says here it pairs well with jackhammers?"

I doubted I'd need coffee to keep me awake if Macy's intentions were about to be realized. Macy ran her slim fingers under the waistband of my 501s and through my pubes.

"Can you hardly wait?" she joked, feeling me swell. I felt the points of her hard nipples in my back. "Jackhammer, baby," whispered Macy, squeezing my thickening shaft.

Soon the smell of coffee filled the apartment. We'd slipped off our shoes by the door and Macy got cross legged on the retro sixties couch. Her outdoorsy athleticism made the posture, where I could catch a glimpse of the black thong, somehow tomboyish, not slutty. I sat on the floor and she massaged my shoulders.

Katie set out cups and saucers for us and sat herself on the edge of what looked to be a genuine Ames chair. I noted that her carefully painted toe nails matched her harem pants.

"You're interested in old styles and older literature, I see," I said, noting that, like her sister, she had a large well-stocked bookcase. "What took you there?"

Katie brushed back the long, wavy hair and leaned forward. "Oh, I've been asked that alot, given that French Literature is such a minor field." She looked thoughtful. "I suppose one answer is that the tried and true are comfortable. Reliable quality and taste, I guess."

"Safe," said Macy. "Practically boring."

"Let's not debate this again, sis," Katie sighed. "You do you. I'll do me."

"How about you do Grant..."

Katie took a long time to answer. Her hand strayed to her cleavage again as she looked intensely at Macy. Her coffee went unsipped. I watched her struggle with something - she opened her mouth to answer twice and thought better of it. Wisely, Macy waited, too.

"Katie," I said, "It's true that you don't know me. And I'm a bit uncomfortable with your sister's, ahhh, forwardness. On the other hand, I can assure you that I'm a gentleman."

"He's a gentle man, too, when you want him to be," Macy patted my shoulders.

"A mountain man, a working man, a businessman, a gentle man..." Katie said, looking skeptically at Macy. "You say he's a kind of cowboy and a stud, too."

"I've never had someone with their shit so together, Katie."

"And you've had quite a few..." she said with a kind of affectionate approbation.

"May I speak for myself?" I raised a hand. The women stilled. "I've found Macy to be a most self-aware and honest woman. Something like my mother. If she says time with me is a gift of love, you must know it comes from the heart and with a deep understanding of your need for safety."

Katie was quiet again. Macy said, "I can't wait to meet his folks. His mother sounds like a modern day goddess of some kind."

"You love your mother...?" Katie said, looking touched. Yes, I loved her. Of course, I wouldn't share the carnal details.

"She instilled in me a respect for women," I said, "My parents both taught me that. My mother and father have a rock solid love for each other."

"How'd they do it?" Katie asked, her elbow on her knee, chin in her hand, cleavage spilling toward my eyes. "Neither of our parents can seem to find the right partner."

"I'd guess it's because they're honest with themselves. And, like my dad says, you say what you mean and mean what you say."

"As simple as that?" Katie looked doubtful.

"Can I say that Grant's complex but he's not complicated?" offered Macy.

Katie looked thoughtful. "Is this a one-time gift...or do I get to unwrap him again if I want to?"

"I've thought about that," said Macy, seriously, "and I think you can. Because I trust you both."

We were all quiet for a minute. Then Katie took a deep breath, looked at me and said, "OK, and let's shower first." She rose and extended her hand to me. I unfolded myself from my seat on the floor and she tilted her head back to look at me. Like Macy, she was at least a foot shorter.

"What about me?" asked Macy.

"I guess I might feel safer if you were here," said Katie, drawing me toward the bathroom.

Macy rose to follow us.

"I mean here in the apartment, not the bed." The sister seemed embarrassed.

"If I'm out here won't you just imagine me watching you anyway?"

Katie gave an exasperated sigh. "No...just wait here." And she pulled me sharply into the bathroom, a small, black and white tiled relic of the era of its construction, well preserved. I could raise my arms and touch both walls of the long, narrow room. The pedestal sink and toilet lined up on one side, the shower filling the further end of the space.

Firmly closing the door, Katie turned and stood with all the dignity she could muster. "Macy's a piece of work."

"Love's a big part of what motivates her, though, don't you think? In work and family, both."

"Her energy runs ahead of her like a bow wave, and we're all at pains to keep our heads above water."

"I hear your literary grounding, Katie. That's a nice turn of phrase. What if we were to skip and dance in that wave like dolphins?"

"Huh, you are surprising, Grant...and my panties are unaccountably wet."

"It's up to you what to do about it. I can go..."

She gripped my forearm. "Nope, I think not," she smiled wryly and began to pull at the hem of my polo. I surrendered to the woman, raising my arms as the shirt rose.

When she got on tiptoes to pull it loose I watched her jiggle. Then I put two fingers to the top button of her blue shirt and looked inquiringly in her eye.

"Do it," she breathed.

Three little twist-pops later the shirt hung open, revealing a black, lace-trimmed bra slit all the way down to the wide band at the bottom. Unlike her sister, this woman needed some support. This wasn't a push up bra making the most of modest assets, but a classy and tasteful harness, holding a considerable pair of cream-skinned jugs in check. Otherwise they'd be swelling and swinging in a most unladylike manner.

Katie reached both hands behind and broke the hooks loose on that harness, then curled her shoulders forward to let it fall away. She tossed it in the corner in a moment of carelessness that seemed promising.

Her breasts hung low, capped in dusky smudges of nipple, marred by the red lines where the bra bound them.

I pulled the tails of the shirt from her pants and, slipping her arms free, Katie tucked it over a towel bar.

I eased down to my knees, placing a hand on the side swell of each mammary. They were considerably more than a handful. I massaged the red spots, curling my hands under their mass, weighing them, leaving the nipples neglected for now.

Looking up into her sultry eyes I found the zipper on the side of her retro pants. The delicate teeth parted smoothly as I slowly pulled down, revealing the matching black-lace panties I expected. Katie let me pull the pants down and gracefully lifted each foot to step out of them. Her legs were shaved smooth. The panties were cut high, the lace running around her hips, the silk cupping a swell of mons before my face.

I ran my hands up her legs and traced a finger along just under the lace, moving toward the creases where the fabric disappeared between her legs. She was warm and moist there. The woman moved her legs apart and sighed. My fingers gently probed in her cleft and I stroked across the damp gusset of her panties. Her aroma met me, thick and womanly - she was well aroused already.

Her hands rubbed in my hair.

Her head fell back.

She pressed her hips forward, seeking my touch.

I pulled down the panties and let them slither down her legs. Katie pulled one foot loose to keep her legs spread, but left the scrap of fabric abandoned around an ankle.