Sunbathing and Chores: The Steamy RV (Sequel to Christmas Night Shenanigans)

Sequel to a previous story of a Bro/Sis that have fun in an RV and almost get caught

Sunbathing and Chores: The Steamy RV (Sequel to Christmas Night Shenanigans)

Okay, this is the final chapter in my teenage "confessions" saga with my sister—the bath-time peeking, the wild Christmas night hookup, and now this scorching summer afternoon that turned yard work into pure chaos.
The summer after that forbidden Christmas romp, things between us stayed teasingly playful: accidental flashes, lingering looks, loaded innuendos—but no repeat performances. She'd gone full "OMG what did we do?" mode afterward, laughing off my clumsy offer to "return the favor" with my supposedly legendary oral skills honed on the neighbor girl. I was now 6 months older , basketball- and tennis-toned, perpetually horny, and convinced every night she was home that this could be the chance to redeem my embarrassingly quick Christmas finish.
She was lounging in the backyard in her barely-there string bikini—basically dental floss and optimism—tanning on her stomach, top untied, back glistening with sweat beads like some forbidden magazine spread. I'd just finished mowing, shirtless, sweaty, and gloriously tanned myself. I plopped into a patio chair in the shade, trying (and failing) to hide the instant tent in my athletic shorts.
She glanced over, smirked. "Hey, grab me some water?"
I stood up—boner leading the way like a divining rod. She burst out laughing. "Jesus, can you not keep that thing under control? It's embarrassing!"
"Easy for you to say when you're wearing... that," I shot back, gesturing at her microscopic suit.
I fetched the water. She sat up—top still off, perfect C-cups on full display. My eyes nearly popped out. She shrugged casually. "Nobody's home. You've seen them before... sorta."
"Never like this. Out in daylight. They're... perfect." To prove my point (and because teenage logic), I yanked my shorts down. My raging hard-on sprang free like it had its own agenda.
Her jaw dropped, then she cracked up. "Holy shit! Okay, yeah—that explains why it felt so thick back in December. Bath time was eyes-closed, Christmas was pitch-black... wow, impressive, little bro."
Cue Dad's car pulling into the driveway. Panic mode: she scrambled for her top; I stuffed myself back in my shorts like a bad magic trick. Dad strolled in, oblivious. "Front yard trimmed yet?"
"Not yet," I muttered, angling away to hide the evidence.
"Well, daylight's burning. And hey—empty the RV of dirty clothes and dishes. Mom wants 'em cleaned tonight."
He vanished inside. I exhaled, already plotting: sneak to the camper, rub one out to the mental replay of her tits.
But Sis piped up sweetly: "I can help with the RV cleanup."
My brain short-circuited. Agony prolonged? Or... opportunity?
We stepped into the RV—sauna-level heat. Windows open, breeze kicking in slowly. We waited outside. She chattered about nothing; I stared at her curves like a starving man at a buffet. She caught me zoning. "Earth to perv—Jenny dump you?"
"We mutually moved on," I said.
"Too bad." Then—casually—she plopped onto my lap in the folding chair.
Her bikini bottoms shifted; my cock nestled right against her warmth. She jolted. "Geez... that's... not subtle."
"Sorry. Can't make it go down until... you know."
She leaned in, whispering hot against my ear: "Okay, let's kill two birds. While it cools off and Dad's inside... show me those 'oral skills' in the bedroom."
I nearly launched her off me racing inside. She sauntered in, untied her top (slow drop), untied bottoms (slower drop), hopped on the bed naked and glorious. I cranked the fan, knelt between her legs.
Her pussy was perfection: neat slit, trimmed landing strip, already glistening. I dove in—slow licks, teasing circles, then full mouth on her clit, nose buried, breathing her in. She jumped, propped on elbows, eyes wide with shock and lust. I noted every twitch, doubled down on what made her gasp. Soon she was arching, thighs clamping my head, silent but shaking—then a gush, legs squeezing like a vice as she came hard and wordless.
She panted, "Okay... okay... that's enough... holy shit."
I wiped my chin, grinning. "Even on orgasms now?"
She laughed breathlessly. "Consider us square."
My dick was painfully harder. She eyed it, then the window. "You need to handle that."
"I was gonna—until you suggested this."
"So... do it." She watched, curious.
I stripped, started stroking. "Ever given a blowjob?"
"Yeah... but I'm not great at it."
"Won't take long if you wanna try."
She hesitated, then: "Nah... you go. But lay back—let me watch."
She spread her legs for my view. That perfect pussy framed the scene. I was close—then she yanked me down for a deep kiss. Boom: I exploded across her chest and stomach, biggest load of my life, groaning into her mouth.
We collapsed, laughing. I kissed her cheek. "Thank you. Holy shit."
She smirked. "That was... intense. But we should stop this."
I nodded, but my dick stayed half-hard. Cleanup time: I knelt to wipe her with a towel, accidentally prodded her thigh... then her entrance. She scrambled back. "Oh no you don't!"
"Come on... I can last longer now. Post-orgasm feels amazing, right?"
She shut it down. "We stop. Now. Boyfriend at school. Getting caught. Sibling thing. Bad."
Dejected, I agreed. We headed to the kitchen to actually clean. But she paused, grabbed a cushion, tossed it on the floor by the sink. "Alright... I'll watch for Dad out the window."
She bent over the counter, pulled bottoms aside—pussy glistening, inviting.
I stripped lightning-fast, stepped up, rubbed my tip along her slit. She was soaked. I slid in slow—inch by inch—until balls-deep. Time froze. Then long, deliberate thrusts. She whispered "Oh God... yes..." every few strokes.
We built rhythm—deeper, harder. She came again, clamping, leg up, hand on my hip to control depth. "Finish quick—before we get caught."
I went for it: pounding, RV rocking, her moans rising. Then—Dad's voice: "Hey!"
We froze. I was right there. She hissed, "Don't move!"
Too late—I erupted, half inside her pulsing heat, half pulling out onto the floor. Massive, messy, mind-blowing.
Dad called again. I gasped out a normal-sounding "In the camper—what?"
"Mom needs help at the Smiths' with furniture."
"Be right there!"
He left. Sis pulled away, cum dripping. "Shit! You came in me!"
"I tried to pull out—you were gripping!"
She sighed. "I'm on the pill. But... damn. First time doggy in the RV. By my brother. Almost busted."
We cleaned frantically, laughing nervously. "Thanks for... everything," I said, winking. "If you ever need a favor..."
She smacked my shoulder. "Casanova. Shut up before round three."
We never hooked up again—but at family dinners, when alone, we'd trade sly jokes about my "technique," her "depth appreciation," and how she's still the gold standard in my book. She always blushed a little... proudly.
Teenage stupidity at its finest.