by PL ( JUNE 99)
The continuing erotic adventures of an all-American girl!
He was HUGE!
After hearing my sister's description of our little brother, I had taken the initiative (and some of our dad's tools.....) and made a hole.
It was inside my closet and afforded me a bird's eye view of his bedroom lair, right next door.
I had had to go into his room when he was at practice one afternoon, just to be sure that it was going to be in the right place - and I had done a great job of positioning my hole, it came out right between and toward the top of two posters he had tacked up, he'd never see it.
I had to stand on a chair to access it, and that was awkward sometimes, because my closet was packed to the walls with childhood detritus, but it ended up being worth it because of how huge he was, and what I saw him do, and what happened next.
I'll get on with my story. I can't contain this.
If you read "Sisonsis", my previous missive (and who hasn't, by all the emails I got?), you'd know that my older sister, Jennifer had caught me lewdly masturbating and had, in an attempt to lighten up what was a very awkward situation, regaled me with a story of how she had caught our younger brother Scotty jacking off in the living room late one night.
She went on to recommend me trying to catch his act - because he was fabulously well-endowed and liked to catch his own cum in his mouth.
She mentioned later that summer that he could probably suck himself he was so big!
Needless to say, this piqued my interest. Oh yeah.
Jenny had gone off to college that September, leaving a huge sexual void in my life.
She had been such a wonderful and willing partner for those few sweet months, I couldn't believe that she was gone - perhaps forever.
We had spent so much time together that summer, our boyfriends had actually given up, and mine was so mad he had begun to date elsewhere, and stopped calling me.
So, my sweet Jenny gone, I cried wistfully and sulked about the house like a frump.
I pored over our lurid Polaroids.
I put on her clothes, masturbating in front of my fabulous, new full-length mirror.
I dressed in her minis and heels, pantiless and gartered, or in her lingerie.
I was possessed, it was beautiful.
She had left some special clothes behind for these purposes, and I had given her a few of my undies.
I loved to sniff the unlaundered panties she'd left.
They reminded me of us.
Especially one pair.
They were her lycra sports panties, which she'd purposely worn for a week without washing, especially for me.
I had also worn them occasionally throughout the summer in tribute to our sisterhood, and they were fabulously ripe with our commingled juices!
They smelled so strongly of anal sweat and spunk I had to hide them wrapped in a towel between my box spring and mattress - you could actually detect them when standing within a few feet of them - whew! Yeah, girl!
Her description of Scotty's impressive manhood and his groping ecstasy had been purely delicious - and right then and there I had decided that I needed to see for myself.
Her words burned in my mind and cunt like a fire.
For months afterwards I had fantasized about him.
My slick fingers were his mysterious cock many a late night or early morning when I found myself aching; dreamy and aroused and thinking of only him, just one room away.
My heart brimmed with young woman's lust.
Sometimes I wouldn't be able to make myself come because I couldn't get a clear enough mental picture, and this frustrated me to tears, writhing and throbbing and tossing feverishly.
I wondered what he looked like, how big was "big", and how it would feel to have a penis that size pierce my virgin vagina, my soft mouth, my tiny anus.
Even with several fingers and a session with a large banana, I still pined and wondered.
Everyone's seen their siblings nude at one time or another, but Scotty was very private, and we were all just basically entering adulthood.
He had changed, I was sure, since the last time I had seen him.
He had been all of eight years-old, hairless and flaccid and just out of the pool, though obviously well-endowed.
I had laughed at him.
A little boy.
Now he was a handsome, muscular, young stud - a star athlete, and one of the cutest boys in town.
At fourteen, he was a wrestler and swimmer, and "toyed" at football - leading the conference in tackles.
At 5'8" and 175 he hadn't reached full height or weight yet, but he had the massive shoulders and upper legs of an athlete, sandy hair, a great, strong jaw, piecing blue eyes and a confident swagger that made all of the girls melt like butter when he strutted by them, me included.
His buttocks were so tight and muscular, they were like stone.
He was slightly pigeon toed due to his build, and moved like a young jungle cat, lean and lithe and easily.
All of this beauty had happened over the course of one year.
POW! and he was a man! This was mind boggling to me.
I look back and think how fortunate I was to witness this metamorphosis.
That's not all I was lucky to witness, either, that's for sure!
That year I became predatory, wanting him like a lioness wants prey.
I had snuck around, schemed and generally been on high alert - "accidentally" barging into the unlocked bathroom, or sneaking downstairs late at night when I knew he was up - hoping to get a performance.
Nothing.
Although he did yell at me in mid-crap a couple of times, and I did stub my toe on late night furniture.
Hopping around hissing curses at the fucking piano leg was when it came to me: A hole was what I needed!
In the evenings we both would retire to our respective rooms to study and mellow out, while our parents remained downstairs, my mom completing housework or reading a novel, my dad reading the evening paper.
They rarely came upstairs until late, and then, usually by the back staircase, which led from the kitchen directly to their room.
Our home was massive, and we basically had our own wing.
This meant we could do pretty much whatever we wanted. Tra-la.
The hole had been there for about a week when it all happened.
All week I had been in major heat.
I had been dressing up and teasing my pussy and generally being hot to trot, balancing on my chair perch on tender tiptoes, hoping, lusting, fingering, touching, dreaming, sniffing around his lair through my peep hole.
He was always in briefs or a robe, or his sweats.
I could see the massive bulge, but it wasn't doing anything, dammit!
I was getting really frustrated and drastically horny.
I had even shaved my lips and preened my little bush into the shape of a heart - this is how crazed I was getting.
That Friday night, I was in a pink lace pushup bra Jenny had left me, thigh highs and a pair of wicked four-inch heels, no panties anymore - they were in a ball by the dresser.
I was just hanging out enjoying being me when he came up the stairs and into his room.
I heard the lock hit the strike plate and ran over to the closet for a look.
This was the first time he had locked the door since I'd been watching.
This could be it!
I got up on the chair, not even bothering to kick off my ridiculously high shoes, and put my eye up to the hole, closing the other and wrinkling my nose to gain perspective.
His bed was over to the right and about fifteen feet away.
He was getting undressed, and when he removed his underpants and turned toward my wall, my breath caught in my throat and I almost came!
He had at least a ten-inch penis!
It was only partially engorged, but long and heavy and full with gathering blood.
His testicles were so perfectly rounded and hairless - they were as pretty as a pair of breasts.
A close tuft of blondish hair puffed up from around his member below his muscular tummy.
The underside of the shaft ran down a few inches over his sac in a fat, veined rod and then thickened just past the roundness of his sac into a massive, heavy, torpedo shape which ended in the exaggerated up-curved mushroom-like knob of his perfectly circumcised head.
I stared at him.
I loved the contrast of that thickening part and wanted it on my tongue!
The devil is always in the details, girls!
Still limp but growing, the roughly five-inch long "business end" hanging down past his balls was rising and lengthening in little jumps and starts.
His glans was a perfect, bulbous, shiny arrowhead, and was shaped like cupid's own.
My mouth just watered.
What a magnificent beast my brother was!
I squirmed.
He closed his eyes and stroked it a few times, pumping it up to near-full mast.
The superb head was reddening and now stood almost a foot from his lower abdomen!
A few more strokes and it jerked and spasmed its way upwards, the head now almost resting in the little hollow between his pecs!
Gawd it was huge!
I wondered if he could blow himself!
Oh, I genuinely hoped so!
I leaked spunk like a river as I tried to possibly conceive of that massive organ inside of me, filling me, pumping me, ripping me apart with ecstasy.
In my cunt, in my mouth, in my asshole, too.
Could I fit my hand around it?
How much could I take into myself and how long would it take, inch by thick inch?
Would it feel like a banana?
Probably more like a whole bunch!
Would my little mouth be able to engulf it to suck him off?
These were the questions swirling around in my mind as I observed the massive object of my desire.
It would hurt me, that was for sure.
Although I had inserted all manner of objects and fruits, technically I was still a virgin.
I was looking at bloodshed, right in the face, but I needed to have him inside my body so badly, I can't even explain it here.
You have no idea.
My vagina began to loosen, involuntarily as if to ready me, and my knees shook.
Before the year was out, I wanted to have that cock crammed so far inside of me that it would cum out my mouth!
As it turned out, I wouldn't have to wait that long!
No indeed!
As I continued to watch him, he readied himself for masturbation.
He reached under the bed and got out a Penthouse magazine and a tube of hand soap.
Lying on the floor next to the bed, more or less facing me, he began to thumb through the magazine, obviously looking for a certain picture.
He stopped on a photo spread of a girl who actually looked a lot like me, same hair and features and figure, pretty much, and he stroked himself, teasing his cock and balls while he steadily gazed at her, the magazine open on the floor near his shoulder.
She was on her back, knees up, middle finger in her vagina, other hand at a breast, head back, and glowing with the gleaming patina of sweat in an obviously-real, honest-to-goodness orgasm.
The picture turned me on even more.
He caressed and played with himself for a few minutes, teasing that perfectly rubbery head and then his testicles and the shaft where it narrowed, in front under the meatus.
He teased and tugged and tickled gently, firmly, with the fingertips of both hands.
He milked a big glob of precum from the meatus.
He diddled a finger in it, then tasted it before he swirled it around the head with a fingertip, lubricating himself.
I watched him, all the while squirming and leaking cunt juices, but afraid to move, lest I alert him.
My cunt begged for a touch, but I'd masturbate later; it was these images I wanted.
And I was getting an eyeful!
He paused and reached back under the bed behind him.
To my utter and complete surprise, he produced a pair of my panties and began to sniff and snuff them!
This completely blew my mind!
I remembered that pair from a year or so ago and had wondered where they had gone!
They were cute cotton ones with horizontal yellow stripes and very low cut.
He picked a nice pair, all right.
He had purloined them and had been using them to masturbate to my smell!
Oh, glorious god! This aroused me so highly that I shifted position and began to give my clit a series of steady, heavy wanks, holding on to the clothes rod with my left hand for support, keeping my eye on Scott.
I was literally dripping on my shoes and the chair!
He'd love to have this chair, I remember thinking, and stifled a snicker.
He placed my panties over is head so that his nose was in contact with the crotch pad and breathed deeply as he lay on his back, knees up, reaching for the soap, squirting some on his palm.
Then, slicking it up and down on his massive cock and around the head, he began to stroke its length, firmly, his other fingertips going to the underside of his balls, where they tickled.
The sound was really loud!
Slickety-slickety-slickety-slickety-slick!
He pumped that thing like a pro, let me tell you.
Fast and firm and hard, with a steady rhythm - slickety-slick slickety-slick.
His ass lifted and his left hand went under there and fondled his smooth, hairless buttocks, caressing, teasing, then firmly grasping the muscular heft of a hanging cheek.
A fingertip pressed on his anus, probing and exploring.
His head turned to the side and he breathed the odor of my juices from those panties, eyes shut, the fabric moving in and out with his quickening breath.
He was breathing like an enraged bull.
He moved the panties aside and deeply snuffed the fingertip that had rested against his anus, smearing it around on his nostrils.
Then he returned the crotch of the panties and his hand busied itself elsewhere.
He pinched his hairless nipples and pulled them way out, twisting them.
The whole time, he kept that slickety-slick rhythm with his right fist, that beautiful cock of his filling his palm like a big pink piston, all steaming and slick and veiny and red and soapy and musky and smooth and rippling.
Each stroke covered the entire shaft from base to head - and he was so long that he had to really work at it - this was a hard effort!
The whole scene was so masculine that I was almost frightened by its blatant and frank physicality - like the first time you see a horse up close and touch it and its skin quivers, or like watching a wrestling match in person for the first time, with all of the cheering and echo and confusion surrounding the controlled, tightly-knotted fulcrum of the two combatants on the mat as they struggle as one.
I had always loved the "maleness" of boys - always having been a "girl's girl" for masculinity - and this scene sent me head over heels, believe me; it was just magical to see.
I felt breathless, a little weak and very very feminine.
Here was a real man completely lost in powerful, muscular, wet, pumping, machine-like masturbation, and I was seeing every detail, from the taughtness of his forearm and biceps, to the way his legs swayed and moved and bucked in response, to how his feet arched and his toes shot out and then curled.
Some muscles went taut, while others hung slack, then they'd reciprocate, and spring back and forth - tight-loose-tight-loose, bouncing like electric rubber.
It was just deliciously-physical, beautifully-brutal.
He was really going for it, and by now, so was I - I had given up on waiting for memories and had begun to seriously masturbate my vagina for all it was worth, sighing, panting, the chair creaking a little as I spread my four inch heels apart and pouted out my little behind, rocking as much as I dared.
As I watched, he inserted a soap-slick finger into his anus and felt around, swishing it.
Suddenly he reddened and changed his rhythm and his back arched.
All of his muscles went super solid, making his athletic frame freeze in a giant's muscular spasm, his smooth legs like some kind of beautiful meat machine, the hamstrings bulging, his butt clinched tight, his right hand pumping, now closer to the purpling head, his six pack abs roiling and rippling like an earthquake in the California hills.
He removed the finger from his butt, whipped the panties off and came, like a spurting hose right onto his chest and throat!
There was so much sperm, it was like a river of frosting on his skin - so white and thick and jelly-like.
The next one hit his chin and open mouth, covering his opened lips and teeth and tongue and his nose.
He craned his neck forward and crunched his hips up, and the tip was less than a tongue's length from his mouth and eager lips!
He began to lick the cum from around the glans and below, swirling and rasping the squirting organ.
Finally as I watched in amazement he engulfed the entire head of his own beautiful cock in his mouth!
I could see his tongue working in there, darting and circling the swollen head as his hand continued to pump and pump the sperm from his orgasming cock!
This was staggering, I could not believe my eyes!
Finally, smiling, and moaning, he fell back flat, exhausted and spent.
"Mmmm. Paula!", he grunted, "Ohhhhh, god!"
I'm not sure what happened next, because seeing him actually place his mouth on his own penis and hearing him speak my name like that, I came super-hard!
Crying out and losing all muscular control, I fell off my perch onto the floor, everything in my closet following me in a huge crash!
He had to have heard me - and certainly the crash! Holy shit!
Still completely wracked with orgasmic waves, I was now in a slow-motion panic.
Still cumming inside spastically, my breath coming in short, panting cries, I rolled, scrambling to my hands and knees, unhurt but shaking.
One heel was on, I noticed dimly, the other one must be someplace.....
The floor of my room in front of my closet had been reduced to a pile of rubble, which was swaying and spinning in my daze.
I had come like the erupting Vesuvius! And there I lay amid the ruins!
Before I could even think about gaining my feet, I heard Scotty's door unlock and he pushed into my room, seeing me and then glancing at the mess, then back to me, then to the overturned chair.
Traces and blotches of cum still specked his lip corners and nostrils, where he couldn't yet quite get a moustache.
He paused, briefly, knowingly, for what seemed like a year in my nakedness, and surveyed the closet, and the chair and me and his mouth fell open, wordlessly.....and he began to smirk, and to shake a finger (the anal one), and entered my room, accusingly.
He'd donned a robe, and as he knelt to help me, it fell open in front and that gorgeous cock swung out right in front of my face.
Without a word I grabbed for it and hugged him nearer, my other arm circling around behind him.
He was so surprised he couldn't react in time, and I kissed his sweet glans, my tongue coming out to taste the saltiness that was smeared there.
He let me.
It was soapy and I choked, spitting out the bitterness as he began to laugh and collapsed on the floor next to me, truly unable to control his convulsions.
He hadn't pulled away though - it was a good sign.
I spoke first. "Sorry", I said, downcast, "I was spying on you".
Then, accusingly, "I cannot believe you stole my panties you worm! And you said my name as you came?!
And you can suck your own dick?!?, what the fuck?!?" What could he say?
He drew up, composing himself, defensive, becoming the bratty little brother I knew and loathed.
"Nice getup!", he retorted, "what are you all dressed up for? And nice twat cut! Hey, a heart, how original!
And what were you doing watching me anyway?"
With the last syllable he pushed my upper arm with his toes, rolling me over slightly.
I rolled back, leaning on an elbow, enjoying the repartee, "The same thing you were doing, big boy, what do you think?"
"And how long has that hole been there, Paula?", he was gesturing an accusing thumb at the closet.
"Oh, long enough - about a week I think", I smirked, my eyes shining, the lust returning, "I had to catch you in the act! And boy did I!"
"Yeah", he said looking down and grinning and blushing, "you sure as shit did, didn't you?"
We both heaved a sigh.
Here there was a very long and awkward pause.
Would I continue to be the accusatory big sister and send him off to his room to return my panties with my hands on my hips?
Or would I just grab him and use that body of his like a play-toy?
Would he keep playing the bratty little brother and stomp off to his room, slamming the door?
Or would he clean off the hand cream and have some fun?
I reached out a finger and dabbed it at his cock.
It sprang to life again as he turned and closed and locked my door, trapping us inside.
He let his robe fall to the floor as he turned, partially covering the rubble.
"We'll worry about that mess later." he declared, standing before me.
A smile played across my lips as I arose, kicking off my one pump and got a tee-shirt and began to wipe off his massive dick.
It hardened as I wiped and stroked it.
And our attitudes softened.
I pressed my nubile softness to him, feeling his unyielding hardness against my willing, supple body.
His cock rose to between my round breasts and I trapped it there, between us.
I held him there, and he held me.
And all I asked was that he merely be gentle.
I leaned up and smiling slightly, licked some of the cum from his mouth and nose.
I let my tongue play around and then went to his neck and throat to get whatever was there.
He was moaning and reacting, awkwardly, trying to kiss my neck, too.
He scored a direct hit - and the shivers that shot through my body made me pause and smile and squirm, before I met his soft lips head on and we began to kiss, passionately.
He was an awesome kisser, probably from pulling tongue all night in junior high I thought.
We held one another and kissed for a while, eventually letting our lips part and out tongues explore, intimately and sweetly, then more torridly.
Breathing hard, I broke away, his mouth following me.
I turned to the side and pushed him back and knelt down before his majesty.
His cock was so big it poked me in the eye.
"Where in the hell did you get this fucking thing?", I implored him, not taking my eyes off of it, even for a second.
Before he could answer, I had my hands on it.
They didn't quite go all the way around its girth, which was about two bananas.
I grabbed and stroked up and down with both hands, keeping my eyes on that head as it moved around.
My mouth moved closer and his hands gently moved to my jaw and guided me forward.
I opened wide and closed my eyes.
It was so unbelievable!
It was so so very very smooth and slippery with my spit, and itsmelled and tasted great - all musky and rank - just like the sex organ of any male animal should!
He had come from practice and hadn't showered yet!
I wrapped my tongue around and around the head and upper shaft as my hands continued to masturbate and pump, drinking in his strong, heady odor with nostrils wide open.
There was no way I could get any more of that thing in my mouth.
I didn't have a small mouth, but he was so big around it brought tears to my eyes and my jaw ached sharply from the stretch.
He held my head by the ears with his palms and began to pump into me.
I moved one hand up by my lips to check his motion and keep from gagging.
It was ridiculous how little of his cock I was eating; I looked down the length and there were a full six or seven inches still showing!
With my free hand I reached to the underside of his balls and rubbed a fingertip there, where I had seen him do it.
This tickle made him buck and moan, so I kept on.
Meanwhile, his hands worked their way down to my hefty breasts and each hand took one.
He gently and firmly kneaded their fullness and massaged me into a small orgasm, much to my surprise.
I paused, moaning and shaking a little.
He seemed to sense an opportunity and used his palms on my erect nipples, pushing them in and turning in a circular motion that very definitely made me come.
I smiled lasciviously as I removed my mouth from his manhood, "Mmmmmm, oooooooh!", I purred
"You made your big sister cum, sporto!"
He liked that, and replied that it was the least he could do, he'd jerked off on me so many times!
I laughed aloud and spanked his hot butt.
I grabbed that dick again, and used its fullness to massage my breasts.
Its slippery surface ran over them like a hot knife through butter, making a dent that I could move around from one to the other.
I teased one nipple and then the other with the head and meatus, then I squatted down and licked all up and down his shaft on the underside with my tongue.
I closed my eyes and licked and sucked on that heavy thick part below the head for a while, feeling its soft firmness on my roiling tongue as my nostrils breathed in the heady funk of his musk and sweat.
His hands atop my head, he moaned and began to pump again, tightening his butt, and rising on the balls of his feet.
"Please, Paula", breathed, "give it to me. I want you so badly, I have for years - please, please, Paula, let me now..... Please?"
He had ended on such a pleadingly sweet note that I couldn't resist him.
"Okay", I said, "but lay down on your back, sport, I get to be on top of that thing!"
He lay down on his back and I lay down on my left side next to him.
We kissed and fondled, our eyes closed.
I guided his hands down to my shaven lips.
"There, sporto.", I said, "Get busy!
And you had better get me good and hot before you go in me because that cock of yours could hurt somebody!"
He understood and began to massage my vagina with one hand while the other circled around under me and pressed me to him by the small of the back.
Being in his complete control made me come a little more, and I just melted with femininity and surrender to this huge man.
He was so young and yet so tender and strong and in control of his powers.
It's a shame, I thought, that there was probably only one like this in the world, and I was related to him!
His fingers stroked my sopping mound and I gasped as a thick middle finger pushed into me, feeling and rimming my tender inner lips and sensitive canal opening.
He pushed it in further and I had that "full up" feeling, that is so satisfying.
There is nothing in this world like something in your cunt, let me tell you - especially when it has fingerprints and keeps moving around and rimming and probing and swirling in there.
The shaft of his finger was right where I needed it - on my clitoris, and I arched my back and pushed into it, his hand on my back helping until I was up on his right thigh and suspended over him, my breasts swinging freely into his face.
He moved me with his hands still in place and gained better access, licking and sucking them as he fingered me, now with two thick digits.
My legs were spread and my balance was gone.
He was playing me like a harp! I craned down and kissed his mouth, deeply, a french manicured hand holding his jaw and chin for balance.
"Wait up a minute", I said, "do you want to 69 for a while first?"
He rubbed a few more strokes then nodded his agreement and I got up and over him.
Continues in Part Two.
Nude Dancer, 1900
-
This spectacular 1900 photo of a nude dancer doing the splits is by
photographer Henri Oltramare. I found it on Mastodon with descriptive text
by abanana...
1 day ago
1 comment:
WOW! After reading that I'm going to have to jack off right now (maybe several times!)...but I can't wait for Part 2! HOT!
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