Cured for Christmas

1 - Miami Beach, Florida, 7:30 pm, Monday November 21st 2011

"SIT," dad ordered as both Paloma and I started to get up from the dinner table.

I looked resignedly over at my sister as we both slid back down into our seats. We both had recognized his tone.

"Your mother and I want to have a talk with you," dad added unnecessarily. 

"I'm pretty busy dad... studying ... I've really got to get going," I protested as I again pushed my chair back from the dining room table.

"Me too daddy, big exam coming up," my younger sister quickly added as she jumped to her feet.

"SIT!" he ordered, his dark eyes drilling into mine.

"But--"

"Please Bobby, your dad and I have something important to tell you and your sister," mom said, interrupting me. 

Both sis and I were wondering what we'd done wrong this time... as if we didn't know.

"Your sister's going to be home on Wednesday night...for Thanksgiving Weekend," dad finally started.

Looking across the table I could see that sis was as confused as I. What's Melissa got to do with this I wondered as I turned back to watch dad at the head of the table. For seconds he said nothing, a very rare occurrence for my father. 

"And..." sis finally encouraged.

Dad still said nothing but then mom started up, asking, "You know we visited Melissa three weekends ago up at her college?" 

Were we complete morons? Of course we knew! I looked guiltily across the table at my younger sister, knowing she was wondering the same thing as I -- had they somehow got wind of the wild Halloween party we'd held when they were away?

Our parents lapsed back into silence when sis and I said nothing. As I looked expectantly back and forth between them I couldn't understand their reluctance to get at it. Maybe they were hoping we'd admit to our sins.

"There's a problem with Meli," mom finally whispered.

"Whaaaat? Is Melissa sick?" Paloma screeched, asking the question that had risen to my lips at almost the same instant.

"Not exactly," dad finally answered after staring at mom.

"Not cancer?" I asked a millisecond after that dreaded word had popped into my head.

"Of course not! Your sister's just bringing somebody home for Thanksgiving," mom blurted in response.

"WHAT?" both sis and I ejaculated.

"A friend," dad said.

"A girl friend," mom added.

"What's that got to do with her being sick?" I demanded, now having no idea what the hell we were talking about.

My father, who had no ability to beat around the bush, suddenly spat out loudly, "Your sister's become a lesbian." 

"Whaaaat? A LESBIAN?" I asked as I broke out into a grin, then laughter.

"You don't suddenly become a lesbian Carlos," mom instructed dad before turning to me and saying in her most firm and adult voice, "It's not a laughing matter Roberto."

I looked over to sis who had her hand covering her mouth and was clearly struggling to keep her laughter from joining mine. Both of us knew with absolute certainty that our sister, Melissa Carmela Martinez, was not a lesbian. Neither of us would ever forget the afternoon we'd spied on her as she'd lain writhing and moaning under her then male sweetheart. As he'd pumped his cock into her pussy.

"It's perfectly normal," mom insisted to my still smiling face that displayed my disbelief so clearly. Then I watched as she flashed a warning glance at dad. 

"Being a lesbian isn't normal mom," Paloma chimed in. Which was a big mistake! Because for the next twenty minutes mom expounded, in a way only our mother was capable of, on women, sexuality, homosexuality, liberalism, religion, feminism, gay marriage, and on and on until the three of us forced to listen to her speech were glassy eyed. 

I finally stood up and fled without a word. 

2 - Miami Beach, Florida, 9:30 pm, Monday November 21st 2011

Dad was sipping a beer while he watched a hockey game on our thirty-seven inch flat screen TV when I entered his den and private sanctum an hour later. "Hockey?" I asked disbelievingly, knowing that dad had absolutely no interest in the sport. He simply mumbled and then turned back to the screen. I knew he wasn't watching the puck.

"Another beer?" I offered as I moved to the fridge behind the bar. A quick, almost imperceptible nod was his only reply.

I opened two Coronas and carried them back to the couch where I flopped myself down on the opposite end from dad, then stretched out an arm and handed him his. He looked at the beer in my other hand but said nothing. Although he knew I'd had the odd beer in the past this was the first time I'd ever attempted to just have a casual beer with my old man.

Another small nod came from him as he brought his beer to his lips and then half drained the bottle in one long gulp.

"You never should have sent her there...that school," I finally ventured after taking a drink from my bottle.

"I didn't send her to the bloody school," he spat out, sending beer flying as the spittle left his mouth.

"They're all lesbians at those schools, everyone knows that," I added, ignoring his outburst. 

"Thank you Roberto for that wonderful advice. Mind you it's about three and a half years too late." Dad's deep, booming Latino voice echoed his displeasure around the room. 

"Why'd she have to go north anyway...among all those lesbian Anglo Saxons. I mean what was so wrong with going to Miami and living at home? I am. A Latina girl up there-"

"Roberto," dad started and I could almost see the smoke coming from his ears, "your sister, who happens to be half anglo-saxon, and your mother, who is one hundred percent bloody anglo-saxon, chose the school. Against my advice as it happens-"

"Still," I interrupted.

"Roberto," he warned, every syllable of my name a warning to drop it.

"So what are we going to do about it?" I finally tried after we'd silently watched a couple of minutes of hockey.

"Your mother believes," and dad's tone conveyed quite clearly he didn't agree, "that we should just let it run its course, that-"

"Yeah but what are we going to do?" I interrupted.

"This weekend you better be on your best behavior," dad warned but with no real conviction in his voice.

"Have you talked about it with Dr. Singh?" I asked. Dad nodded quickly. "What did he say? Can we cure her?"

"He said it's complicated... That we have to find out what kind of lesbian she is."

"Huh? Kind? How many kinds are there? What do the various kinds do differently?"

"How should I know? He said just to watch them this weekend...see whats going on...don't do anything differently," dad stammered. "Then we'll talk after Melissa has gone back to school, make a game plan."

"Maybe I should talk to him," I offered.

"ROBERTO," dad warned again.

"But you're not going to let them sleep together when they're here are you? Do whatever lesbians do at night, when they're naked?" 

"They will not be sleeping together in this house," dad promised in a voice that brooked no argument.

****

"Have you ever heard anything crazier?" I heard whispered into my ear forty-five minutes later. I jumped about three feet. 

"Christ Paloma... you've got to stop that!" My younger sister, who'd just turned eighteen, a high school senior at Joseph Marti High, just grinned at me as she leaned over my shoulder and looked down at my computer screen.

"Stop what?" she asked with a grin.

"Stop sneaking up on people like that." 

"You're checking up too aren't you? On lesbians," she said as she ignored my comment.

"Dad says we're to act normally, not say anything," I reported from my earlier conversation from dad.

"Yes, but what are you going to do?" 

We talked excitedly for the next hour... my sister Paloma was the crazy member of the family.

3 - Miami Beach, Florida, 10:30 pm, Wednesday November 23rd 2011

Mom, not trusting either dad or I not to blurt out something inappropriate in the main concourse of Miami International Airport, had insisted that she and Paloma would pick up the "girls" as she referred to them. "You'll meet them here in our home, politely," she'd instructed dad but also included me when she shifted her eyes to mine.

I don't know what dad or I were expecting but Emmanuelle de Bonheur certainly wasn't it! She could best be described as a long haired, blond, runway super model with breasts. Tall, in fact easily as tall as my five foot nine inch older sister, and perfectly proportioned, she walked into the Martinez living room to find two dark haired Latino men standing with mouths agape. She was an instant hard-on generator.

"Bonjour, I'm Emmanuelle... call me Manny, you must be Meli's father," she said softly in a lilting French accented voice as she took my father's hand in hers. The high heels she wore just accented the curves of her calves and the length of her legs. Legs which were left amply displayed for us by the tight, hip hugging mini skirt that barely covered her delightfully rounded French derriere. Her pointed breasts, braless, moved freely under an ivory colored silk top. In her heels she was as tall as dad!

As dad stammered out a reply I felt my cock start to fill with blood. "And you must be Rrrrroberrrrto," she purred with a husky sexiness as she turned to me and gave me a hug while she planted a soft European kiss on each of my cheeks. Even though the hug just lasted seconds there was no way she missed feeling my cock as it butted up against her stomach. Great start I thought as we broke apart. My sister's lover had a twinkle in her eye as she moved back away from me.

We all sat down finally. We had drinks, dad even serving underage Paloma, something he'd ever done before, and we all acted as though everything was just perfect. A loved daughter and sister bringing a friend and lover home to meet the family. 

Later, Emmanuelle was assigned Melissa's old bedroom, which in her absence had been converted into an upstairs den/playroom, while Melissa was gently ordered to bunk in with her sister. I'm pretty sure that my father patrolled the hallway outside my sister's room all night long.

4 - Miami Beach, Florida, 11:00 am, Friday November 25th 2011

"Are you coming to the beach with us today Roberto?" Emmanuelle asked when she came into the kitchen and found me sitting at the kitchen table a day and a half later. 

She was barefoot and was drying her hair with a fluffy white towel. All she had on was a pink tank top and a pair of white boy shorts that would have made a Hooter's girl blush if she'd been told to wear them.

"Beach?" I asked as I took in the body my sister was apparently making love to on a regular basis. A very hot body.

"Meli said she'd take me. Where's Paloma, she can come too."

"She and mom went out," I answered as my brain tried to quickly figure out if this was a good idea or not. I could watch them I thought... talk to them... get the scoop with innocent sounding questions... maybe find out what kind of lesbians they were. I hadn't had a chance the day before. The beach would be the perfect place I decided. The hot sun just might loosen her lesbian tongue.

"Yeah sure," I finally answered, "South Beach?"

"South Beach what?" I heard from the doorway and turning saw Melissa in the doorway. She was also drying her hair and didn't have much more on than Emmanuelle. I watched as my sister held out her hand and then intertwined it with her friends. Emmanuelle gave Meli a quick kiss on her lips before putting her arm around her back. I just knew they'd been making out together in the shower. This is so fucked up I thought as I watched them. They both definitely needed some quality time with Mister Penis!

"I asked Roberto if he wanted to come to the beach with us."

"But... I don't think...you did?" Meli stammered.

What's her problem I wondered. Heck, we've been going to the beach together all our lives. She probably wants to make out with her or something I thought as I answered, "I told her I'd love to go... that is if you don't mind." 

"But-" 

"It'll be okay Melissa," the blond French girl assured Mel.

"Are you sure?" my sister asked.

"It might be fun," Emmanuelle answered, giggled, gave me an appraising glance, then winked at me and then hugged my sister.

What's this all about I wondered as I watched my sister's mouth gape open. 

I found out about thirty minutes later, after I'd grabbed a quick shower and had gotten my beach stuff together. When, after driving to Collins Avenue, instead of turning right and south towards SoBe, Melissa turned the car north.

"That's the wrong way," I shouted from the back seat. "Heck, you go away to school and you forget where the beach is?" I asked sarcastically. Of course there was no way my sister could have taken the wrong turn.

"Manny wants to try the other beach," my sister said softly as she kept her eyes on the road in front of her.

Manny? Mel and Manny? Sounds like members of a boy band and not two lesbians I thought. "What other beach? We're not going to Hollywood or Hallendale Beach are we? Fort Lauderdale sucks."

"No... not there," my sister answered. 

"It's called Allover I think," Emmanuelle said in her sexiest French accent as she turned in her seat and looked back at me. "I found it on the Internet."

"WHAAAAT!" I exclaimed when I'd figured out she'd meant to say Haulover.

My sister finally turned and gave me a quick glance before she turned back to the road. Her face was beet red. Which was almost an impossibility for a girl with her dark Mediterranean skin. "In France its normal to go naked on the beach," Melissa tried to explain.

"You've never been there Roberto?" my sister's lover asked.

Of course I'd been there! With my buddies. But to look at the naked female tourists, not to take my clothes off and hang out. 

"You sunbathe nude?" I asked as I tried to consider the implications of going to the world famous Miami nude beach with them. 

"Always," Emmanuelle answered as her eyes looked deep into mine, "I love to feel the sun and the water on my naked skin."

Fuck! "But...but I'm a man," I finally stammered out. 

"I've seen naked men before," she answered and in a tone that clearly conveyed to me that she hadn't seen these naked men only on a nude beach. "I'm French," she added when she saw the confusion on my face. As if that explained everything.

As we continued the short trip north it actually wasn't Emmanuelle I was worried about, instead my thoughts turned to Melissa. I was going to see my big sister nude? She was going to see me? How gross was that? And what would dad think? As if I didn't know...that'll be a fun conversation I thought as we turned into the Haulover parking lot.

****

Within seconds of our arrival at the beach and our choosing a spot to lay out our towels and things, Emmanuelle had casually and quickly pulled off her top and shucked her shorts. Then she stood proudly naked in front of us, posing for us.

"C'mon you two," she finally laughed as her hands circled my sister from behind , hugged her and then started to lift Melissa's top up.

"Maybe we shouldn't... I mean with Roberto here and everything," my sister protested even as she lifted her arms and allowed her girlfriend to bare her. Melissa's full round breasts were left resting in a lacy white demi bra. "Manny... please," she protested as her lover undid her bra and let it fall to the sand. For seconds Emmanuelle cupped Melissa's breasts, hiding them from my staring eyes.

"Your sister's so beautiful Roberto," she said as she watched me. "Beautiful, beautiful breasts," she added as she let her hands fall and exposed the dark areolas and thick, erect nipples of my older sister. They were! Tits to die for. Emmanuelle may have had an extraordinary pair of tits but I wouldn't have traded five sets of them for the breasts my sister was displaying.

I watched spellbound as this beautiful blond Frenchwoman slowly pulled my sisters shorts and panties down and exposed her sex.

"You're shaved," I blurted as my eyes took in the bare lips and slit that sat at the juncture of Melissa's legs. My sister, now blushing furiously, tried to turn away from my probing eyes.

"I shaved her," Emmanuelle said proudly as she held her lover against her. I watched as her hands slid from my sisters hips down between her legs and slowly pulled her apart, exposing Meli's pink insides. My cock was suddenly huge.

"Don't," sis ordered as she escaped from her lover and sat down on one of the towels. 

"And of course Melissa shaved me," Emmanuelle said as she stood watching me, her legs spread in an invitation to me to look. I did. And as I let my eyes slowly move over this incredibly sexy Frenchwoman I realized I was going to have no problem in learning everything I wanted to know about these two. But did I really want to know?

"Your turn," Emmanuelle finally said, her challenge clear. I saw Melissa quickly look up.

"Maybe later... I don't want to get burned or anything... I think I'll go for a swim," I delayed, not wanting them to see my hard-on.

"It's normal Roberto, normal for a young boy to get an erection his first time on a nude beach, especially an American," Emmanuelle said in a condescending tone. Her eyes were smiling though, challenging me! 

Young boy? First time? American? Fuck you, I thought as I watched her laughing eyes. "It is?" I asked as I pushed my shorts down my legs. I heard two gasps.

Emmanuelle recovered first and said with a giggle, "They usually aren't that big though." Then she licked her lips provocatively.

And so I spent the afternoon on a nude beach with my sister and her girlfriend. And I slowly learned their story. My cock was hard about fifty percent of the time! Emmanuelle didn't seem to mind.

I learned how the two prettiest girls on campus had ended up rooming together in their second year at college. Dating an endless stream of boys from Dartmouth and Harvard and Yale. "We know all about men Roberto," my sister's lover said casually.

"Don't," Melissa cautioned, knowing that Latino men didn't have the same casual attitude towards female members of their family sleeping around as Frenchmen apparently did.

"About penises," she added as she ignored her friend.

"Maybe its better if I don't know everything," I tried to discourage.

"Beer and football, frat parties, that's all these American boys know," Emmanuelle said dismissively. "And then, when they're drunk enough, they think every girl they run into wants to suck their little penises."

"MANNY," sis protested.

"And as to any foreplay, most of these boys can't count to three let alone find a clitoris with their tongue--"

Jesus, I groaned inwardly as I listened to the French girl. 

"But Melissa knows what to do with her mouth."

My eyes flashed to my again blushing sister. I think I was blushing as bright as she was. Does this French babe always talk like this I wondered silently.

"It just happened," she said as she looked down.

"It was the massage therapy course we took," Emmanuelle announced. 

"You took a course in massage therapy? At school?" I turned to my sister. "What kind of College are you going to?"

It wasn't a College course, it was an extramural thing," my sister protested as she sat up. Her breasts, jiggling with the movement, again drew my eyes. 

"There weren't any boys in the class of course so we had to partner up with each other," Emmanuelle explained. "Your sister made my nipples ache the first time she touched them. Then my pussy," she said simply with a shrug of her shoulders. There wasn't a hint of shyness in the French girl's voice. Her puffy, pink nipples were just sitting there waiting to be sucked. Nipples that were a delightful contrast with my sister's thicker and darker ones.

"What school of massage therapy includes touching your partners pussy," exploded from my mouth. Bloody, northern, lesbian colleges I cursed silently.

"It wasn't the first lesson," sis interjected.

"We were practicing at home," Manny added with a leering laugh as she let her fingers move onto my sister's hip. "Then of course we got to the oral sex," she added.

"I'm sure Roberto doesn't want to hear about that," my sister insisted.

"That's for sure. American boys never seem to be interested in oral sex," Manny said dismissively. 

Listen, I was a nineteen year old freshman at the University of Miami and someone who believed he was pretty sophisticated in the ways of women. But I hadn't met a French lesbian before! This was a girl who could, and who did, talk about every aspect of sex in the most open and blunt way imaginable. 

I think both Melissa and I were shell shocked when we finally left the beach four hours later.

"She's lucky," Emmanuelle announced at one point in the proceedings. Just after she'd spent twenty minutes telling me about the pleasures of a female sixty-nine.

"Who's lucky?" I asked.

"Your girlfriend." 

I was afraid to ask why. "You're definitely not going to meet her," I promised.

"Can she get all of it into her mouth? All of your beautiful cock?" she asked.

"EEE...MAN...UUUU...ELLLLLE!" my sister screeched in protest before I could say a word.

"Well it is beautiful... isn't it Meli?"

"He's my brother."

"I'm leaving," I announced.

"In fact," added Emmanuelle as she ignored us, "if I wasn't sleeping with your sister I just might..."

She didn't finish her sentence, instead she just grinned at my sister and winked at me. I had another hard on!

5- Miami Beach, Florida, Monday November 28th 2011 

"You went where?"

"The beach... Haulover," I answered. I knew this was going to be a tricky conversation with dad. The girls had flown back to school late the night before. After our afternoon on the nude beach together on the Friday before I really hadn't gotten another chance to talk to them away from my parents or sister. This was my first chance to brief dad.

"The nude beach?" I nodded yes. 

"You took your sister to a nude beach?" I nodded again. 

"Did you take your clothes off in front of your sister?" Dad's voice was getting more incredulous and louder with each question.

"They took me! Christ pa, it was you who told me to get the lowdown on them."

"I didn't tell you to show your sister your bloody penis!" Dad wasn't happy.

"She's not a virgin dad... at least I found out that much," I said, trying to change the subject.

"Who isn't?"

"Emmanuelle," I answered.

"The lesbian? She's slept with a man? How do you know?" He couldn't hide his curiosity.

"I asked her."

"You were supposed to watch them Roberto... surreptitiously. You weren't supposed to--"

"She said I had a nice penis," I interrupted. Dad looked like he was about to have a heart attack.

"Your sister's lesbian French lover told you that your penis is nice?" dad finally spat out. "Are all French people perverts?" he wondered aloud.

"I think so, and I think she's done quite a bit of penile research," then added, "Melissa's not one either dad."

"NOT ONE WHAT?"

"A virgin," I said quietly, knowing Dad wasn't going to be happy.

"Somebody had sex with my Melissa? She told you? Who?" my father demanded. I think he was more pissed off at the idea that some man had deflowered his daughter than he was at her 'lesbianism'.

I did not tell my father everything I'd learned from the girls. Fuck, I wasn't stupid. Instead I gave him a hazy recap of the story Emmanuelle and Melissa had given me of how they'd drifted into a relationship. I tried to leave out all of the more lurid sexual details that Emmanuelle had been only to happy to share with me. For example I didn't bother dad with Manny's fifteen minute recital on the joy of shaving your partner's pussy.

"I'm going to talk to Dr. Singh Dad, I'm sure he'll help, he's bound to have some ideas," I ended.

"I'll come too," dad offered. But I was finally able to talk him out of it; instead I convinced him that it'd be better if I was able to give our neighbor the complete run down without him being there.

6 - Miami Beach, Florida, 5:00 p.m. Wednesday, December 1st 2010

"Robert!" I looked over my shoulder and saw Dr. Singh standing on his patio with a drink in hand. I'd spent the previous twenty minutes cleaning his pool, one of six pools that I cleaned and maintained as a part time after school job.

Dr. Singh, a native of Mumbai and a man who had come to America and Harvard for post graduate studies, was now a world renowned expert on lesbian psychology and had been lured to the University of Miami after he'd published a national bestseller on the subject six years earlier. He'd been our neighbor since he'd moved south.

"A drink?" he offered.

"You saw them?" I asked when we were seated and I had a beer in hand.

"How could I have missed them?" the good doctor asked.

"Can we cure her?"

"Ninety-three point six percent of lesbians can be cured," Dr. Singh announced confidently.

"They can?" What about the other six point four percent I wondered.

"Tell me what you learned," the learned doctor encouraged.

So I told him. In almost as graphic detail as I'd been told by Emmanuelle. He grilled me on their experiences with boys. Tut-tutted when I told him what Manny had said about American College boys cunnilingus abilities. Was interested to learn that they'd both slept with men. 

"Frenchwomen are all bisexual my friend Robert," the doctor told me when I'd finished. "It's in their genetic makeup."

"It's not in Melissa's genetic makeup," I protested.

"Listen Robert you sister's case is a classic one. She's got her fiery Latin blood but it's tempered by her Anglo-Saxon side. She grew up in the tropics and then spends the years she's ripening into full womanhood in the snowy, cold north."

"Still--"

"I know what I'm talking about. The same thing happened to me. From Mumbai I was whisked off to Boston and Harvard when I was her age. They're passionless up there. So there's your poor, hot-blooded sister, yearning for a man who'll rouse her to the heights of erotic pleasure--"

I wasn't sure that the Doc's description of Melissa was one hundred percent accurate but I shut up anyway.

"—and thinking that the years of her college freedom would finally unleash a tsunami of orgasmic feelings that were just waiting to be unleashed by large, throbbing, thrusting penises--"

"Christ, you're as bad as Emmanuelle doc," I complained.

Doc Singh stopped talking for a second, then gave me a look and said, "You want to know the bottom line on this Robert?" Of course I did. "What Melissa needs is a man."

"I sorta had figured that out Doc."

"Is your sister bringing the French lesbian home for Christmas?" he asked.

"No."

"Good. So that'll give you three weeks to find her a man. To 'get her laid' as you Americans love to describe it. Properly laid. By someone who knows what he's doing. Who's got a nice, big cock."

The doc wasn't pulling any punches. "I don't think it'll be that easy sir."

"Would you prefer to celebrate Easter at a lesbian wedding on South Beach?" I shook my head, it was impossible to imagine such an event. Dad would shoot Emmanuelle before such a travesty befell the family. "Well then?"

"It's not much time to find a man for her. She'll be back home in just a couple of weeks."

"It's her final year up there isn't it?" I nodded. "That'll be the most dangerous time for all of you then. Two girls, in love, a huge decision facing them. Should they stay together? Get married? Go and live in Paris? You better do something at Christmas my boy," the doctor warned.

What could I say to that?

"You know Robert, in India it's up to the male members of the girl's family to act when a problem like this arises."

"Up to them to do what?"

"Cure her. Robert, if you can't find any other man to do the job then you or your dad will have to do step up to the plate and perform your duty. It's your responsibility."

"Sleep with my sister? Or have her sleep with dad? Are you nuts?" I asked incredulously.

"Why not? You love her don't you?"

"Well sure but--"

"Well then, you're halfway there."

"She's my sister."

"Were you sexually aroused when you saw her naked on the beach?" the doctor demanded.

"She's good looking," I answered warily.

"Did you get an erection?"

"There were other girls there, Emmanuelle ... tourists..."

"Have you dreamed about her since that day?" Doctor Singh pressed. He saw the answer in my eyes and pressed on. "She's a wonderful, beautiful girl. It's perfectly natural for a brother to have sexual thoughts about his sister. All boys do. Her future happiness is in your hands my boy."

"It's against the law," I protested.

"In India a man would act to save his sister no matter what the law said. His honor and his family's honor are at stake. Maybe Latino men aren't as concerned about such things," he answered. 

He knew better than that! And so did I! "That's easy for you to say, you don't have to sleep with your sister."

"And how do you know I didn't have to?" the doctor snapped back. And in such a way and with such a tone in his voice that he momentarily stopped me.

"You didn't did you?" I finally asked.

"My father died when I was thirteen Robert. My mother and my three sisters were alone ... unprotected. Sometimes you have do things you didn't expect you were going to have to do Robert, sometimes you have to grow up faster than you thought you would," the doctor said, then stood up and walked towards his house. Just before entering through the patio doors he turned and said, "Come back tomorrow and we'll discuss your game plan." Then he disappeared inside. Our consultation was evidently over. 

Doctor Singh had slept with his mother?

I dreamt of my sister that night. Naked. Knew I'd never find a boy for her in time. Knew that dad would never be able to do what was required. Could I, I asked myself even as my hand stroked my raging penis. Make her come? Put my seed inside her? Cure her of French bisexual lesbianism...

I'd have to I decided as the sperm spurted from the end of my cock. The only choice was me or a life of childless sorrow for Melissa. 

I also realized as I watched my penis, still jerking out its thick cream, that I wanted to do it. That I'd wanted to it almost since I'd been capable of it, but that the desire had lain dormant below the surface for years. Melissa had always turned me on... 

The next afternoon I told Paloma what the doctor had said. She surprised me when she reacted by saying, "Of course it has to be you. I've known that since I saw the two of them rubbing up against each other."

"You saw them rubbing--"

"Oh I saw a lot more than that," young, innocent Paloma answered.

"But it's wrong."

"Melissa is going to come back home to Miami," my sister answered, her words delivered with a fierce intensity in them that I'd never heard from her before. "She's going to come home, she's eventually going to get married ... and have children..."

"Still," I delayed.

"And it's up to you to make sure it happens." It was an order.

Paloma was onside. "You'll have to help," I told my little sister.

"Of course I will," she agreed.

7 - Miami Beach, Florida, Thursday December 16th 2010

Melissa flew home on the night of the fifteenth of December. I didn't get a chance to talk to her alone that first night. Father, on my suggestion, and with Paloma's agreement, had decided to bunk her in with her sister for the holidays. I'd wanted her close to Paloma -- I needed a spy. Our ruse was facilitated by dad having hired a contractor to redo Meli's old room and so my older sister had been faced with an empty, half painted room when she'd arrived.

"We wanted it perfect for when you arrive home in the spring," dad had explained.

"What if I don't come home in the Spring?" Melissa asked back.

"Then you'll have cost your poor father, a man who's slaved every day of his life since the raft carrying him from godless communism landed on American shores to provide for the children he loves so much, not only thousands and thousands of dollars but also his future happiness--" Paloma started. 

She'd laid it on pretty thick but we'd wanted to get Melissa on the defensive right from the start. We only had three weeks.

That night, as Paloma and Melissa lay in their beds, my younger sister questioned her sister closely on her lesbian lifestyle.

And at eight a.m. the next morning I was shaken awake by my little sister. But it took me a second to realize who had roused me. The first thing I became aware of, a normal morning wake-up occurrence for me, was the tingling warmth radiating up through my body from my cock. As I stretched my body languorously I reached down to corral my hardness. My palm closed around my penis. I started to—

"Whaaaat are you doing?"

My eyes flew open. Paloma, in a pair of shorts and tank top, and sitting on the edge of my bed, was staring with mouth agape at my penis.

"What are you doing here?"

"Well I certainly didn't come to watch you doing that."

"You're supposed to knock," I grumbled as I covered my penis with my hand.

"It's very big," Paloma answered. Her eyes were still locked on my groin.

"What are you doing here anyway?" 

"They've talked about getting married," my little sister started. Oh Fuck! 

"They have?"

My sister spent the next twenty minutes briefing me on what Melissa had told her the night before. "She still wants to have children," Paloma finally said.

"Melissa?"

"Uh huh. And she wants to live in Miami. It's not even that she hates men. Or their penises," she added as I caught her checking me out again. And it hadn't been the first time in the last few minutes that Paloma had let her eyes drift downward. "She's confused. She loves Emmanuelle but ..." 

I circled my penis with my palm and lifted up off my thigh and into air. "We'll just have to get her to love this," I said.

"Yes we will," Paloma agreed. Then she licked her lips.

****

"Beach?" I asked Melissa casually across the kitchen table two hours later. It was ten in the morning. Everyone else was out doing errands. It was time to start to put my plan into place. She nodded her agreement. She'd been home for fourteen hours.

"Can we take your bike?" she asked hopefully. My sister loved my motorcycle.

"Sure," I agreed.

"Can I drive?"

"No way."

"Roberto! Pleeeaaase?"

"I'll let you on the way home. If you've been good," I teased. Meli stuck out her tongue.

Ten minutes later she was on the back of my bike with her arms wrapped around my stomach. The breasts my eyes had feasted on at Thanksgiving were pushing against my back. 

"This okay?" I asked over my shoulder as I turned my bike north. 

"Haulover? Just us?" she asked while placing her lips against my ear, trying to be heard over the roar of the motorcycle.

"Yes," I yelled into the wind.

"We shouldn't, let's go to South Beach," she yelled back as she tightened her arms around my stomach. Her erect nipples were unmistakable as they poked through the t-shirt I was wearing. I revved the bike and kept driving north.

"What if someone recognizes us?" sis asked when we finally pulled into the parking lot.

"No one will be looking at your face," I promised my sister as I dismounted.

It was different that second time. We'd both known it as we stood self consciously over our towels. Without asking each other where we wanted to set up our things we'd both wandered to the most deserted section of the beach, a spot with no one within twenty-five yards of us.

We shyly removed our clothes, even turning our backs on each other as we stripped.

"This is weird," Meli said when she'd finally organized herself and was sitting naked on her towel. "A brother and a sister. We shouldn't have come. We're not French."

"I liked it last time. And besides, no one knows you're my sister," I said as I pushed my shorts down my legs. "People will think we're lovers."

"That's so gross. And you liked what?" Melissa's eyes were locked on my groin as she spoke.

"People watching me. Seeing you. You looking at my cock." I said nonchalantly as I stood in front of her.

"I didn't look at your cock," she protested.

"Liar." Then I noticed the short black curls that had sprouted over her mound since I'd seen her at Thanksgiving, "You're letting it grow back?"

"What?"

"Your hair," I said as my eyes roamed over her mound. A mound now sporting a frizzy coat of short, dark pubic hair.

"I just haven't shaved for a while," she said nonchalantly as she ran her fingers through her curls.

"I prefer it like that."

"You do? You shouldn't be looking anyway," she said as she sat and then lay back. Her languid posture and her spread knees belied her words. Her pose invited my eyes towards the pink slit of her pussy. Girls just love being looked at.

"Turn over then, I'll do your back," I said as I picked up the tube of lotion. My penis felt heavy hanging between my legs.

"You liked Manny didn't you? When we were here the last time," she added needlessly as my lotion filled hands moved over her upper back.

"She was okay... for a blond anyway." My hands moved caressingly over the firm roundness of her bum. "But I prefer Latinas."

"Hah! I was afraid you were going to try to steal her from me."

"Were you?" I asked as I gave her a quick slap on her rear.

"Stop that," she said with a giggle. Her body was hot under my hands. I could feel the tremors of her excitement. I lightly ran my fingers up and down her anal crack.

"It's your turn, do me now," I said after giving her ass another little slap. I lay down on my back. My sister slowly squeezed the tube of sun block and then both of us watched as a fat drop of cream fell onto my stomach and then pooled over my belly button. Melissa's hands started to spread the lotion over my chest.

"I bet you'd prefer that it was Emmanuelle doing this don't you?" she asked as her fingers moved over my nipples.

"No way," I denied.

"I'll bet you do."

"My cock too," I instructed when my sister made to move away.

"You're my brother," she answered even as she lifted my half hard penis from my thigh. "I'll need more cream," she added as she grabbed the lotion in her other hand and then squeezed a big gob of the white sauce over the head of my cock. "Don't you dare get an erection," sis warned as her fingers started to spread the cream.

Yeah sure, I thought. "My balls too."

"It certainly showed," sis said as her fingers found my balls.

"What did," I groaned out as I lengthened under her touch.

"Manny certainly knew you found her sexy, you had an erection almost the whole time we were here last time... Hey, I told you not to get one now. That's disgusting, I'm your sister." But she didn't seem in any rush to finish lathering up my private parts. 

"How do you know it was because of her last time?"

"It was obvious."

"You're better looking."

"No I not, she's beautiful."

You're way better looking than her," I said. My cock was full and standing straight up as I said it.

"I'm not."

"If you weren't my sister," I said softly as my eyes caught hers.

"But I am," my sister answered. "Your lesbian sister." Her dark, thick nipples were pointing at me.

"Doctor Singh told me over ninety per cent of lesbians can be cured."

"You talked to Doctor Singh about me?" She couldn't hide her surprise at the news. Or her displeasure.

"Dad and I went for a consultation. And do you know what he said?"

"You shouldn't have said anything to him. Daddy was there too?"

"He said it was up to dad or I to cure you."

"And what is that supposed to mean?"

"He said you need one of these things," I told my sister as my hand circled my cock and lifted it.

"That is soooo disgusting."

"And not just any one. A nice big one. One that you like. One you really want inside you. It has to be a man that you love if you really want to be cured."

"Yuck, penises are ugly," my sister announced as she jumped to her feet. "And who said I want to be cured. Or that I have something I need curing from."

"A nice big, hard, family cock," I said as I circled my penis with my hand and lifted it up in offering.

"Pervert!"

"Even Paloma thinks it's the best solution."

"PALOMAAAAAA! You told Paloma?"

"Did you see how much he loved it when you put the suntan cream on him?"

"Shut up! I don't want to hear another word about your stupid penis." But Melissa wasn't mad. "Now c'mon, I want to go for a swim," she encouraged as she stood and turned towards the water. I chased her -- my throbbing cock led me.

*****

"Do you know what she said?" Melissa asked me about twenty minutes later. We'd just run laughing from the water.

"Who?"

"Emmanuelle...She said that if we got married--"

"GOT MARRIED!" I ejaculated. "Are you crazy? Daddy'd kill her before he'd allow--"

"She said that if we got married, and if we decided to have babies, that she'd like you to be the father."

"Whose father?"

"Our child's. Then I'd be genetically connected to it too."

"Is she nuts? And who's going to father your babies? Does she have a brother?"

"It's just something she said. We're not going to do it."

"You can bet on that," I agreed heartily before adding softly, " there's no way dad will be ever able to do it."

"Do what?"

"It's up to me."

"What is?"

"Curing you," I said. 

"You're crazy," my sister replied. But after seconds of trying to meet my steady stare her eyes dropped. 

****

I let my sister drive the motorcycle home. She was wearing a cut-off tank top. My hands circled the bare exposed skin of her stomach the second I got on behind her. The hot engine was throbbing between her lesbian legs. She squealed when my hands moved up and under her top and squeezed her breasts. But she rode on...

"Next time we're going to talk about what your little pussy wants," I yelled into her ear as we roared south.

"There definitely won't be a next time," Melissa yelled back. I slipped a hand down across her stomach and slipped four fingers into her shorts. Then I rubbed her pussy through the thin material of her panties as the roaring motorcycle carried us home. 

She was wet when we finally turned onto our street.

8 - Miami Beach, Florida, Saturday, December 18th 2008

The Christmas holidays are a pretty busy time for a family in the Cuban community of Miami. It's an endless round of parties and get-togethers and church masses and family dinners ... 

It's dining and drinking with distant cousins and aunts and uncles that you only see once or twice a year. The men sit around smoking cigars while discussing sports and business and Fidel. The unmarried young men and women are paraded in front of other community members while family abuellas huddle in corners discussing possible marital matches.

Melissa, beautiful and now just months away from graduating college, was a prime subject of speculation everywhere we went that Christmas. Who would be a good match for her? Mind you I don't think my name was mentioned as a potential suitor for her! Little did they know...

So it wasn't like we, and by we I mean Melissa and I, were going to have a lot of time alone together during the holidays. I'd known going in that I'd have to pick my spots. It was only on the following Saturday morning that I got my next chance. Paloma was my co conspirator.

Every morning she'd continued to arrive in my bed to brief me on the previous nights discussions she'd had with her sister. Or so she said. But each time I awoke I found myself uncovered, the sheet somehow thrown off during the night. And I'd got the distinct feeling that Paloma hadn't been waking me up the second she'd entered the room.

So I got the lowdown on what Melissa was thinking while my little sister got the lowdown on her brother's penis. I didn't complain --in fact I liked it that my pretty little sister was obviously interested in my cock.

****

"You're running a 10K? You?" Melissa asked disdainfully as she looked up from the kitchen table. I had just arrived in the kitchen in my running shorts and tank top.

"He's doing it to raise money for breast research," Paloma told her sister with a leer. "That seems to be his main interest in life these days -- girls breasts," my little sister added. Then she winked at me.

"Breast CANCER research," I amended as I pointed to the pink ribbon pinned to my top. "Your little sister hasn't grown any yet so she doesn't feel she should help," I said dismissively. While perhaps slightly smaller than her sisters, Paloma's now eighteen year old breasts were already drawing attention wherever she went. She'd been teasing me with them, bending over so that I could see down her top or 'accidentally' bumping into me, over the previous months. And she knew I'd noticed them. Excellent breasts. Breasts made to have hands cup them as a big penis slid between them. Except, seeing she was my sister, I never should have had that thought...

"Ha, ha," Paloma said as she delivered a punch to my arm. "I can't, Mom and I are going to visit Aunt Carmela," she explained to her sister. "Wanna come?" Aunt Carmela wasn't really our aunt, instead she was something like a third cousin once removed. Melissa had never got along with her. None of us had really. As kids we'd always referred to her as the dragon lady.

"I think I'm supposed to..." Meli stammered, trying to think of any excuse to escape, as mom walked into the kitchen.

"Nonsense, your aunt's been eagerly awaiting your visit Melissa," mom interjected. 

"She can't mom, Meli's promised to help me at the race." I smiled as I offered my sister a way to escape this dreaded duty.

My sister is no fool. She immediately latched onto the opportunity to miss being grilled by her aunt. "Somebody has to drive Roberto ... and hold his water bottle for him ... I might even run the last mile with him, it's such a good cause," sis stammered out. And so, after some arguing back and forth, it was decided.

"You know Melissa, you could use that massage course you took up at your College to help any runner that needed help, even Roberto," my younger sister suggested with a twinkle in her eye.

"You took a massage course at College?" mom asked.

****

"Paloma never should have mentioned that massage thing to mom," Melissa complained as she and I drove towards the starting line in downtown Miami twenty minutes later.

"She was right though ... I probably will need a lesbian massage when I finish the race," I answered with a leer.

"In your dreams little brother," my big sis answered.

****

The 10K had been scheduled to start at nine a.m. to beat the heat. And it was December so it shouldn't have been too bad. But as it turned out it was one of those Florida December days that feel more like August than winter. Hot and humid. 10K's was a killer. Melissa ran the last kilometer with me.

"That wasn't so hard," my sister said cheerfully as we crossed the finish line. Truth to tell it hadn't been. However yours truly slightly exaggerated how tough I'd found it. And the sweat rolling off my skin simply amplified my complaints.

"Hah," I scoffed through my gasping breath, "you only ran a couple of hundred yards." After downing a deep swallow from a proffered water bottle I started to walk towards where we'd left the car. Of course I limped.

"What's wrong?" my sister finally asked. I stopped. I pulled my shorts up off my right thigh and started to massage it. "My quad ... my hamstring too ... I think I might have pulled something," I said as I rubbed my leg.

I continued to complain once we'd got in the car. In fact I insisted that Melissa drive us home. 

"Okay, okay, I'll give you a massage," Melissa finally conceded when we were almost home. I'd continued to complain during the whole drive, in fact I'd expanded my various hurts to include a sore foot on my other leg, a stiff back and a sore shoulder. "But don't think you're fooling me for a second Mister Roberto Martinez..." 

But Melissa said it with a smile. I knew she wanted to give her younger brother a massage... to demonstrate all she'd learned up in her Yankee College.

And she might have been a lesbian but she couldn't hide her interest in the thing hanging between her younger brother's legs. 

****

"You should shower first," Melissa said after we'd trooped inside. I did. Took a nice long shower. Then I walked into the girls room, where she'd set up her massage table, with my towel wrapped around my neck. I had nothing else on. 

"You shouldn't walk around like that," Melissa chided. "It's rude. Besides, what if Paloma walked in and saw it?" I ignored her as I hopped up on the table.

"Stop complaining, your poor brother almost killed himself trying to raise money to save your breasts," I answered with a smile.

"My breasts are fine."

"Yes they are, beauties in fact," I agreed with a leer.

"Nut!" Meli answered as she picked up the tube of massage oil. But she was smiling. Even a lesbian is a sucker for a well placed compliment! "You know I've never massaged a man before so--"

My sister needn't have warned me of any possible shortcomings of her massage technique. Even having had learned her trade at an all female school she had clearly moved beyond the basics. And given that almost one hundred percent of her training had been with her lover, her massage technique naturally had a much larger sexual element to it than what might have been expected from a standard massage. Even when she was massaging a man. A man who was also her brother. 

There was a sensuality in her touch that went beyond simple massage. Her fingers kneaded deeply and strongly into my tired muscles. But they also caressed. She took her time on my back. On my hamstrings. On my bum. For seconds one of her oil covered fingers lingered at my anus.

"Does Emmanuelle like it when you do that?" I asked nervously.

"No!" Melissa answered as she quickly pulled her hand away. I rolled over. My cock was like a flag pole aiming to the sky. Melissa pretended to not notice as her hands went to my left foot.

"Feet are important," she said as her fingers started to work their magic. She was in no rush. 

"Maybe you should put my big toe in your mouth," I suggested.

"Shut up." So I did. She massaged my two feet. Then my thighs. My cock stood straight up the whole time. She tried to ignore it but her eyes repeatedly returned to it.

"Finished," she finally said triumphantly. 

"You missed one part." 

"I don't do those."

"Look how tense the poor guy is."

"I've never done one," she said even as her hand tentatively reached out to touch it.

"I'll tell you what to do," I promised.

"It's definitely very up tight. Does this help?" she asked as her palm closed around me and started to slowly pump me. My penis would have better been described as UPRIGHT. 

"Twist your hand a bit each time you move it up and down," I instructed.

"Does your girlfriend ever do this for you?" Melissa asked.

"She's never taken a college massage course. Put your other hand here," I said as I grabbed her left hand and placed it on my balls. My sister may have been a lesbian but in the next few minutes she demonstrated she also understood advanced penile manipulation massage techniques. And how!

"Okay, I think we're finished," Melissa finally announced. But her hand continued to move on me. My cock was throbbing.

"Jesus, he's still pretty tense," I gasped out. I was close. "I think it'll just take a few more minutes and you'll have done it."

"You're not allowed to cum," she instructed. I was thrusting my hips off the massage table. Her fingers were flying.

It builds up and builds up until you can hardly stop yourself from screaming. And then in just one nanosecond the first explosion, the first ecstatic release arrives. And you don't care about anything else in the world besides the feeling in your cock and balls as the sperm rockets up your shaft and spurts upward into the air. Every pleasure receptor in your brain is overloaded, and then, just as that first wave of pleasure rolls through you the second one starts. And then the third. Again and again. I was hardly aware of the white cream as it spurted upward and then fell and splashed back down onto my naked body.

"That was disgusting!" But Melissa was smiling as she said the words.

"You did it," I finally gasped out. "Look, he's all soft and relaxed," I added as I lifted my still semi-hard cock from where it was resting on my thigh. 

"It's not that soft," Melissa said as she watched my penis. 

"There's still a little inside," I said as I moved my fingers up my cock, squeezing out one last thick globule of cum. I slid a finger across my cockhead and captured it. "C'mon here," I invited as I held my sperm coated finger out towards her.

She shook her head. "I don't want to," she denied even as she watched the cream coated tip of my finger. I reached out with my other hand and circled her waist. I then slowly started to pull her towards me.

"Boys are so yucky," she said as she continued to watch my finger. I slid my hand up her back until it was resting on the back of her head.

"It's yummy," I lured as I waved my finger inches from her mouth. I continued to pull her forward. Her eyes were dancing pools of excitement.

"It's not!"

"Roberto's special cream, whipped up by his beautiful sister," I said as I rubbed my finger across her closed lips.

"I did not," she started to say but before she could add one syllable more I pushed my finger between her lips. She mumbled in protest. I slowly pumped my finger into her mouth. After seconds of resistance her tongue finally started to move. She licked the finger clean. Swallowed.

"You shouldn't have done that," she protested when I removed my finger from her mouth.

"There's much more," I said as I pointed to the pool of cum that had gathered around my belly button.

"I won't!"

I didn't answer, instead I simply held her eyes with mine. It took almost thirty seconds but she finally dropped her eyes.

"Why should I?" she asked as she dipped a finger in the creamy pool.

"Use your tongue. Lick it, I want to feel your tongue on my skin," I half begged, half ordered. "I know you use your tongue on Emmanuelle."

"I shouldn't," she said even as she lowered her head towards my stomach. But she purred like a contented cat as she lapped up her brother's seed. My cock, hard again, almost shot out a second load as her tongue cleaned me.

"That's the very last massage I'm ever going to give you," my sister promised when she'd finally finished.

"Next time I'm going to eat you," I told Melissa as I got up off the table.

"You are not!" I stuck out my tongue in answer. "Boys are hopeless at that anyway," she added. So I kissed her. On the lips. Hard. Hungrily. When I let her go she was whimpering. I could smell her need. Her bisexual side was showing.

****

The days passed. Parties. Family dinners. Trips to the beach with friends. Paloma visited me every morning to deliver her updates. And to check out her brother's cock. One morning, anticipating the timing of her visit, my cock was shooting out a thick strand of sperm just as she came through the door.

"Boys are so sick," my little sister said after I'd finished.

"Don't you dare think I'm going to let you become a lesbian too," I warned back.

"Hah! You probably love that. It'd give you a chance to take MEEEE to a nude beach. To see my breasts."

"What breasts? Those little bumps," I teased back.

Paloma didn't say a word. Instead she simply lifted the cut off tank top she happened to be wearing. Then she stared into my eyes, challenging me not to look. Of course I looked. Paloma had perfect breasts! And watching them I knew I wanted to fuck my younger sister as badly as I wanted to fuck Melissa. 

9 - Miami Beach, Florida, Thursday, December 23rd 2010 

I lightly tapped on the girl's door, then turned the knob gently and pushed it open. It was two-thirty in the morning. I was naked.

"Mom?" I heard whispered in the darkness as I walked into the room. It came from the left, from the direction of Paloma's bed.

"Shhhh," I whispered.

'Roberto?" Paloma's bedside lamp lit up. "What are you doing?" I held my finger to my lips as I approached Melissa's bed.

"Oh my gawd, you're naked," my little sister gasped. 

"Shhhhhhhh," I instructed again as I continued towards my big sister's bed. "And turn out the light."

"She'll wake," sis whispered as she hopped out of bed. "You're not going to--" Paloma was wearing a white tank top over pink pajama bottoms. Her breasts danced under the thin cloth as she moved to my side. When I pulled Melissa's sheet back I found that she was wearing a satin, ivory colored sleepshirt. The top button was undone. All she had on under it were a skimpy pair of lace trimmed white panties.

"Undo the other two buttons," I ordered.

"You can't ... please Roberto, not like this."

I ignored Paloma's protests and instead bent over and undid the two buttons myself. Then I slipped the shirt off her shoulders and bared her.

"You can't, yours is too big."

I looked over at Paloma and found her eyes now locked on my cock. And as I watched her I realized that mine had probably been the first one she'd ever seen 'live'.

"They're all like this," I said, then moved my fingers to the lace fringed top of Melissa's panties. A second later my sleeping sister was nude.

"They're not all like that."

"Go back to bed. And turn out the light," I ordered. Paloma retreated until the back of her legs hit her bed. She sat. But she didn't turn out the light. Instead she watched as I climbed up on Melissa's bed and positioned myself on my knees between her legs.

"What are you going to do?"

I spread Melissa's knees and then slowly lowered my head until my tongue found her inner thigh. Paloma, her mouth gaping open, didn't say another word as I licked my way upwards. 

I ate my sister. Afraid of waking her too soon I went slowly, gently at first. I wanted her right on the edge of orgasm when she woke.

A soft groan finally escaped my sister's lips. Her body below was already wet. In her sleep she'd splayed her legs wide open. My lapping, licking, sucking, kissing tongue had already roused her clitoris and caused the lips of her labia to engulf with blood and open.

"Ohhhh Manny," escaped my Melissa's still sleeping lips. I felt unconscious hands seek out the back of my head. 

I lifted my head and turned to look at Paloma. She was sitting on the edge of her bed. I could see her hand moving inside her shorts. "Turn out the light," I hissed. For a second I could see the protest in her eyes. Then she leaned over and flicked the switch. 

Ohhh gawd Manny," Melissa groaned. She was slowly waking. I ran my tongue slowly over her clitoris before pushing it inside her. The smell of her sexual need was almost overpowering as I lapped up a first vaginal discharge. 

Then I felt her stiffen as she realized it couldn't be her girlfriend. "Paloma?" she asked incredulously as I continued to lap up her juices. A small orgasmic spasm radiated out from her center.

"What do you mean by Paloma?" my younger sister demanded as she flicked on the light switch. Looking up from the pubic curls of Melissa I saw that Paloma's hand was still inside her panties.

"Roberto!" Melissa screeched. I lowered my head. I put my hands under Melissa's bum and grasped her firmly. She started to squirm, trying to escape. My tongue flickered over and around her sex. I slipped a finger through her anus and up into her ass.

"Don't... Paloma ... help me," Melissa pled. I ignored her. At first she tried to push my head away. But she couldn't deny her body. Soon her hands were tightly holding me against her as she groaned out her ecstasy. She came. Loudly. 

When I finally pulled my drenched lips from the mouth of her sex Melissa was still trembling, 

"You shouldn't have done that. It's not right ... and Paloma saw it too," Melissa complained.

"It's your fault! You shouldn't have encouraged Roberto like you did," Paloma accused in from across the room. 

"My fault! How was it my fault?" Melissa demanded.

Paloma ignored her. Instead she threw out another zinger. "And Roberto did a much better job than that weird French girl ever did. You should have heard the noise you were making. I don't know how mom and dad didn't hear your shrieks."

"Tomorrow night I'm going to show you what else Roberto can do," I promised as I slipped out of Melissa's bed. "I'm going to give a very special Christmas present." I held my erection out toward her. Then I turned and left.

"He's sick Paloma ..." I heard Meli say to her sister as I walked down the hall to my room.

"What do you think Roberto's going to give me for Christmas?" Paloma asked back.

****

"She said what you did was wrong," were the first words I heard the next morning. "That she never would have let you if she hadn't been asleep."

"What time is it?" I asked as I opened my eyes. Paloma was again sitting on the edge of my bed. She was naked. Her hand was holding my cock.

"What do you think you're doing?" I asked as I tried to pull back from her. She kept holding me.

"I asked her why, if she was such a big lesbian, did she make so much noise."

"You did?" 

"Uh huh. I told her it wasn't right that she and that French girl had taken you to the nude beach and shown you their bodies. I asked her what did she expect when she showed you her breasts and pussy."

"What did she say to that?" I asked. Paloma was still cradling my penis in her hand.

"I also told her I want to see you put your big Christmas present in her."

My present was getting big! "Sometimes you're a very bad girl Paloma," I chastised.

"I'm going to give Melissa's present a kiss for luck," she answered. Then she bent over and kissed my cockhead. She might have ended up doing more than that if mom hadn't chosen that exact moment to call up to her children.

Paloma was licking her lips as she backed out of the room. What was happening to my sisters?

10 Miami Beach, Florida, Friday, December 24th 2010

They were both still awake when I pushed open the girl's bedroom door the next night. A door they'd purposely left ajar.

It was two in the morning. It was Christmas Eve. Time to deliver Melissa's present!

I'd wrapped my cock and balls in bright pink Christmas wrapping paper. A large, white Christmas bow held the paper on. The only other thing I had on was a Santa hat. "Ho, ho, ho," I said as I walked into the room.

"Santa?" Paloma whispered. She flicked on her bedside lamp. She was in her PJ's.

I immediately saw that Melissa hadn't bothered to dress up for Santa's visit. She was naked. She had a red paper heart stuck in her dark pubic curls. She clearly wanted Santa to cum down her chimney.

"You shouldn't be here," Melissa said. I walked over towards her bed, only stopping when my knees hit the mattress.

"There's a card," I said as my brightly packaged penis bobbed in the air.

"You're a pervert," she answered as her fingers gingerly reached for the Christmas gift tag that hung from the ribbon. "A Special Present for my Favorite Sister in the World", she read.

"What about me? What am I?" Paloma asked from her perch across the room. I ignored her. So did Melissa. Instead she pulled the ribbon. A second later my cock was free.

"It's very big," my sister announced as her hand closed around him.

"That's what I said," Paloma announced.

"Shut up Paloma," Melissa instructed.

"Yes, shut up," I agreed as I climbed onto Melissa's bed. 

There was no foreplay this time. No kisses ... no touching of breasts ... no probing fingers. Instead I simply pushed inside her. Meli groaned as I stretched her. But she was already wet. 

"Don't hurt her," Paloma warned from across the room. "Lesbians aren't used to those things."

Melissa may not have been used to 'those things' but she certainly welcomed her present. Her legs curled around my back and then locked together as my hips started to move back and forth.

"Fuck me ... fuck me Rrrroberrrto," she demanded as she wrapped her arms around my neck. 

A flash bulb went off! "She's a slut," Paloma announced when I looked up and saw her pointing her digital camera at us. Then I turned back to Melissa. Then we both started to go crazy. Wild. Noisy. Paloma, hovering in the background with her camera, was forgotten by both Melissa and I as we made love.

My sister hadn't had a penis in her for over eighteen months. But she certainly hadn't forgotten what to do with one! And quite simply it had never been anything close to as good for me with any other woman. As I knew it hadn't ever been for Melissa. We just fit. 

Was it the element of taboo that took it over the top? The fact that my cock was in my sister. Maybe that was part of it. But most of it was the fact that we were two horny kids and we were both making love with someone we truly loved for the first time in our lives. It was impossible to hide our need. And Paloma's pictures, taken continuously as Melissa and I fucked, clearly showed it when we saw them later.

We both came quickly, easily, noisily. And as her orgasm rippled up and down my cock, thick, hot creamy strands of her brother's sperm, my sperm, pumped into her depths.

Panting, gasping even, it took us minutes before I finally rolled off my sister.

"I love you," she whispered.

"What about your French lesbian lover," Paloma demanded from the peanut gallery.

"Who said I was a lesbian?" Melissa asked back.

"Hah! And you shouldn't have ejaculated Roberto... not inside her," Paloma said as she aimed her camera at my now semi-hard penis. My sperm was dripping from the end of it as I rolled off the bed and stood up. 

I bent down and lifted Melissa up into my arms. My cum was oozing out from between her legs as I spun around and started towards the door.

"Where are you going?" Paloma demanded.

"We need a little privacy," I said as I carried my naked sister out the door.

"That's not fair," Paloma complained to my back. "You've already given her her present. She doesn't need another one," my younger sister yelled at my departing back. "What about me?"

I gave my big sister's pussy three more presents that night. And then I deposited one in her mouth. 

Melissa was not a lesbian when she woke up the next morning. She was her brother's lover. 

11 -- Christmas Day 

Of course it was Paloma who woke us just after nine-thirty the next morning. She was dressed. Melissa and I weren't. "Mom and Dad are waiting for you," she told us after she'd shaken us awake. "Breakfast will be ready in five minutes. We're all waiting to open the presents." 

I didn't answer. Instead I leaned over and kissed my big sister. A second later I was inside her. "Tell mom we'll be ten minutes, that we have to shower first," I told Paloma as I turned and looked up at her. She ignored me; instead her eyes were locked on her sister's sex.

"Doesn't it hurt?" she finally asked Melissa.

"Roberto's a bad, bad brother ... he shouldn't never have done this," Meli answered. But her words couldn't block out the needy groan that followed them.

"You're the bad one," my little sister told Melissa. "Touching Roberto's cock like that, making him big."

"You don't know anything about it," Melissa answered. 

"I know lesbians aren't supposed to suck penises," sis said haughtily as she turned toward my open bedroom door. Then, after yelling down to our parents that we wouldn't be long, she then turned and watched every second of our lovemaking. And she gave us a running commentary. 

The thought that something was definitely going to have to be done about my little sister crossed my mind even as I stuck my tongue into Melissa's mouth.

****

It turned into a typical Christmas day at the Martinez's. The five of us ate a sumptuous brunch mom had prepared that included all the Cuban Christmas specialties. Then we opened our presents. 

In the afternoon the five of us went on our normal Christmas Day tour -- a tour that took us first to Aunt Marisa's house and visits with her family and then on to the homes of just about every relative we had in Miami. And we have a few! Of course food and drinks were served at every stop. 

Which meant that by the time we got home we were all stuffed and somewhat tipsy. And then, after what was supposed to be a refreshing siesta but which for Melissa and I simply turned into another opportunity to make love, we all trooped off to church for mass.

At just after ten that night, after we'd returned from church, we all sat down to dinner. Roast pork, rice and black beans, and plantain. Served with wine. We had it every Christmas.

Melissa saved her announcement for the dessert course. Which was bunuelos and turrones. And that was after dad had served us all mojitos, even Paloma. So we were all feeling pretty good when Melissa stood up and told us she had something to tell us.

"I just want to tell you daddy that I'm not a lesbian anymore," were the words she delivered towards the head of the table.

Dad's mouth opened in shock. So did mom's. "You're not?" he finally sputtered out after checking to see his wife and children's reaction. 

"I'll be coming home as soon as I graduate. My room will have to be ready by then."

Father by then had leapt to his feet. And had taken Melissa in his arms and lifted her up and swung her around even before the last words had slipped from her lips.

"Of course it'll be ready. And so will your new car, your graduation present," dad said happily as he twirled her around. 

Later, much later, after dad had proposed more than one toast to his beautiful daughter, Melissa and I found ourselves back in my bed. Paloma was again hanging around. "You pretend you're a lesbian and you get Roberto and a car," she groused to her sister. And since Melissa was engaged in performing fellatio on her brother she didn't answer.

"While I--"

"Go to bed Paloma," I ordered. 

"Why do the bad girls always get the men?" she asked back.

"Out," I ordered as Melissa started to deep throat me. 

****

When exactly did mom figure it out? It certainly wasn't Christmas Day nor perhaps even the day after. But I think she figured it out on the twenty-seventh. Two kids in love can't hide their love for long from someone as observant as mom. There are just too many clues. Smiles, touches, giggles, kisses ... things perhaps siblings do but not in the way we were doing them.

So she caught on. And both Melissa and I knew that she had. But Mom didn't say anything. Not at first at least. In fact she didn't say one word to me during all the time Melissa was home that holiday season. And knowing that she knew and that she hadn't done anything to stop it made us even more brazen in front of her as the days passed. 

More blatant touches and hugs. A long kiss under the mistletoe while our mother watched. Having mom in on it somehow helped legitimize what we were doing.

Dad of course had known what Doctor Singh had recommended. That we should try to get Melissa laid while she'd be home. He'd even heard the suggestion that it might be up to us to perform the cocking. But he'd looked horrified and scoffed when I'd told him what the good doctor had said and he'd literally buried the thought somewhere deep in his subconscious. So it took dad a couple of days longer for the bulb to go off. But eventually even he couldn't miss it.

In fact I was watching him at the exact second I believe the truth finally penetrated his brain. It was Friday the thirtieth. Five days after Christmas. The whole family was sitting on the back patio. Melissa and I were lolling together on the swing chair. My arm was around her. We were laughing, almost oblivious to the others in our love. I just happened to look up at dad and I saw it as sudden awareness flashed across his face. 

Dad didn't say one word. Instead, over the next hour, as he downed beer after beer, every once in a while I'd see his head nod. And I knew he was talking to himself. Somehow trying to grapple with the reality of his son fucking his daughter. Of wondering if the cure was worse than the disease. And perhaps even recriminating himself for leaving the job to me! 

12 - New Year's Eve 

New Year's Eve we celebrated together. Just the five of us. Paloma had ditched her latest only weeks before and my current girlfriend was up in New York with her family. So the five of us ended up dining and dancing at one of the most popular Cuban halls in South Florida.

I danced with Melissa. With Paloma. With mom. In fact I danced with just about every woman in the hall. As did dad. We were happy. In fact I think that we were as happy as we'd ever been. In spite of everything that had been going on.

Melissa and I celebrated the New Year in my bed. Loudly. With bells and whistles. When I woke the next morning I found Paloma curled up next to me. She was naked. She'd slipped into Melissa's and my bed sometime during the night.

Melissa pretended to be not pleased when she discovered her younger sister's presence. We kicked her out.

13 - Miami Beach, Florida, January

Melissa left on Saturday the eighth day of January to go back to school. I drove her to the airport. We'd been making love for fifteen days. Almost non-stop. In almost every conceivable position. I'd filled every opening in her body. We'd fucked. And sucked. And kissed. We'd laughed ... and cried. We'd paraded nude on the beach before a thousand pairs of eyes. I kissed my sister on Lincoln Road as tourists and locals streamed around us. 

We knew our parents knew what we were doing and yet they said nothing. We'd let Paloma watch us. 

We'd been shameless.

And yet we'd really never talked about the future. Just that she'd be coming home once she graduated. That eventually she'd settle down and marry and have kids. As I would.

We hadn't had to tell each other what we both knew. That we'd never stop now that we'd started.

"Luv ya," I whispered as we stood in front of the airport gate.

"You better," she answered, then captured my lips in hers. For minutes our hungry tongues probed. She felt my hardness grow against her stomach.

"And you better not let Emmanuelle do that anymore," I warned when our mouths finally separated.

"We live together," Melissa teased. 

"You better not," I teased back.

"A cold, stormy, snowy New England night ... the power goes off ... two innocent coeds needing to stay warm..." Melissa was trying to keep her giggles in as she spoke.

"Well you can tell sweet little Manny that you brother is going to come up to visit you next month and that if she thought she could get away with taking advantage of a Martinez girl she's got another think coming."

"And what's my little, baby brother going to do about it?" Melissa asked as she squeezed her body even tighter against me. Her face was a glow with happiness.

"Oh I think daddy and I will think of something," I promised.

"Daaaaddy?"

"Yes I think your father is going to have to teach our French friend something about Latino machismo. I'm going to have a long talk with him when I get home."

"Hah! You are not." I smiled. I could see her nervousness. "You better not," she warned. 

"He's going to put your pretty little lesbian friend over his knee."

"He will not."

"And then I think he's going to introduce her to a nice big Cuban-American cock."

"That is so disgusting!" My sister said. Then she leaned into me and pushed her tongue deep into my mouth. A second later she was gone...

****

It was just after ten at night when I got home. I found my father in his den. 

He and I had been sitting in the den for over a half hour, sipping beer as we'd watched Lebron and D Wade make fools of the Lakers, before he brought up the subject I knew he'd been dying to broach.

"You know I love you Roberto," he finally said.

"I love you too dad," I answered, knowing much more was coming.

"You shouldn't have had to do that ... to do ... it wasn't really fair to ask you to do--" Dad was incapable of putting what Melissa and I had done into words.

"Doctor Singh said it was the only way."

"It's just that I feel I should have done something, that it was my job," dad said with a helpless tone in his voice. 

"I knew you couldn't ... and I knew the family would never be the same if Melissa had married--"

"That bitch!" dad interrupted. He clearly hadn't forgiven the sexy Frenchwoman. 

"You should have seen her naked dad," I replied with a grin, trying to lighten his mood.

"I don't know why the government lets them in the country," he answered.

"We should only allow French lesbians into the country if they come by raft, like we did," I agreed. Dad smiled, he knew I was joking. 

"Well at least Melissa's cured," dad said, then after a moment's hesitation added, "thanks to you."

"Do you know what Doctor Singh said when I told him what happened?"

"You told him? That you--" I nodded. "Maybe you shouldn't have told him everything. He might think--"

"He's Indian dad, he understands." I really hadn't discussed it yet with Doctor Singh. I was making it up as I talked.

"Still--"

"He said it might not be over."

"But she's cured. You cured her."

"She's gone back up north. They'll be together for the next four months. That French girl--"

"That BITCH!" 

"Doctor Singh said she'll never give Melissa up without a fight. That it was almost a certainty that she'll try to win her back. He told me about one case he had--" I let my words hang in the air. I waited. 

"What case?" dad finally asked.

"Doctor Singh thought he had cured one of his patients. This was a couple of years ago. And then later he found out he hadn't. His patient's girlfriend actually drugged her and then handcuffed her to a bed. Then she did lesbian things to her ... for seven days straight..."

"I'll kill her," dad threatened. "I shouldn't have let her go back."

"We'll have to go up there dad. Doctor Singh said to wait a month or so ... then we'll go up there and make sure--"

"I'll have to go?"

"Yes! Doctor Singh said it would be imperative."

"Would I have to--"

I slowly shook my head yes. "And you'll also have to punish the French girl."

"I will?"

"She can't get away with what she's done to Melissa dad."

"No, she shouldn't," my father agreed.

"In fact I think a good spanking just might be in order," I suggested. "You could put her right over your knee."