Summer Storms - Cover

Summer Storms

Copyright © 2003 by Nick Scipio

Chapter 7

Coming of Age Sex Story: Chapter 7 - With Paul’s summer of discovery behind him, it’s time to get back to real life and his connection with Gina. But when the women keep knocking—and Paul keeps answering—things get complicated. His heart belongs to Gina, but his adventures with Amy, Susan, and Stacy could spell trouble.

Caution: This Coming of Age Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   mt/ft   Ma/ft   mt/Fa   Fa/Fa   ft/ft   Fa/ft   Mult   Teenagers   Consensual   Romantic   BiSexual   Heterosexual   Fiction   Historical   School   Sharing   Incest   Brother   Sister   Light Bond   Group Sex   Swinging   Anal Sex   Cream Pie   Exhibitionism   First   Masturbation   Oral Sex   Petting   Safe Sex   Voyeurism   Caution   Nudism   Slow  

The next day, Susan and I worked at Mr. Kestrel’s house. Except for a short lunch break, we worked non-stop. We both wanted to finish the majority of the packing before lunchtime on Friday. We also had to decide what to do with The Room.

We hadn’t used any of the bondage equipment again, and for the most part, that suited me fine. I thought it might be fun to tie her up and tease her—or some other willing partner—but it wasn’t something I fantasized about very often. The idea still excited me, and it was something I was willing to try again, but I guess the mechanical nature of the room intimidated me a little.

“I don’t think Gregory even knew about The Room,” Susan said as we walked back to her house, exhausted from the day’s work.

I shook my head.

“I don’t think we should simply pack things up, either,” she said.

“No.”

“And we certainly can’t leave the room as it is.”

“You could donate it to the camp,” I suggested, grinning tiredly.

Susan nodded thoughtfully. “Mmm hmm. We could have volleyball, shuffleboard, bondage and discipline, badminton, and frisbee golf. You know,” she said, grinning in reply, “all the things a fun summer camp has.”

We were silent for a few minutes, both of us too tired to keep up the banter.

“We’ve also got to think about the women in those pictures,” Susan said. “I’m sure most of them realized Uncle Bernie was taking their picture, but I don’t think they’d want anyone else to see them.”

I merely nodded.

“So I’m thinking we should probably just burn the pictures and magazines.”

“Yeah, probably.”

“And the furniture is good stuff, we just need to ... clean it up a bit.”

I nodded, understanding what she meant. We’d have to take the eyebolts out of the bed and chair, and clean out the armoire. But I didn’t know what we’d do with the padded bench. I could think of only one thing it was good for, and I didn’t think the Salvation Army really wanted a “fuck bench.”

“For the rest of the room, mostly the stuff in the armoire, I think I know what to do with it.”

I looked at her sidelong and wondered what she was thinking.

She saw my look and grinned. “I have a friend in town who would probably take it. She’s ... into ... that sort of thing.”

I raised my eyebrows at that, but Susan merely shrugged and kept walking.

When we got to her house, we showered together, but were too tired to do more than a little playful groping. Boy, I thought to myself, working all day sure makes you stop thinking about sex all the time. I wondered if that was what it was like to be a grown-up. With a shudder, I put the thought out of my mind.


On Thursday, we cleaned out The Room. While Susan boxed up the cuffs, restraints, and other things from the armoire, I took several loads of pictures and magazines out to the burn barrel behind the house. Looking at all the pictures of naked people, bound and having sex, I got the beginning of an erection.

Susan noticed, grinning at me when I walked back into the room. She went to the linen closet, retrieved a towel, and covered the chair’s padded leather seat with it. She had me sit down, then she knelt between my legs. When she was comfortably situated, she gently stroked me to full erection.

She took her time sucking me, building me toward climax several times, and then slowing things down just as I was ready to explode. When I did finally come, it felt like I was draining my entire body through my penis. Her lips still locked around my shaft, Susan actually cried out in surprise at the amount of come I spurted into her mouth.

It took me a while to regain my senses, and when I did, I looked down to find a very satisfied Susan resting comfortably against my leg, her head on my thigh.

“I love doing that,” she said languorously.

I swallowed hard and nodded. My dick was still stiff and my entire body was tingling, but I felt so drained that I simply wanted to take a nap. Susan gave my cock a smoldering look and then took a deep breath. When she reached up and started fondling me, I almost pulled her hand off. She quickly realized that my head was still very sensitive and only stroked the base.

When she rolled back to her knees and laid her arms along my thighs, I gripped the chair and watched her, captivated. She tilted her face to the side and tenderly kissed my balls. My cock twitched at the promise of attention, and she smiled. She kissed up along the underside of my manhood and then captured the tip with her mouth.

She began inching her lips down my shaft and didn’t stop until she’d nearly swallowed my entire length. When she wrapped her lips around the base of my dick, I felt her nose pressing against my pubic hair. She worked her jaw and I groaned through clenched teeth.

My cock slowly emerged from her mouth, shiny with her saliva, and she grinned at me as she let the head slip from her lips. I grinned in reply and she lowered her head again. As she started bobbing up and down, I gripped the arms of the chair and closed my eyes.

When I felt her move, I opened my eyes and looked up, but smiled when I realized she’d thrust her right hand between her legs. Her hips immediately started gyrating as she pleasured herself. Her lips were stretched over my girth and her eyes were closed. What a beautiful sight, I thought to myself.

Since my first orgasm had been so powerful, the second one took longer. For the most part, Susan merely suckled my cock and masturbated herself. Her breathing became irregular and she started moaning deep in her chest.

From the flush creeping up her neck to her face, I knew she was close to orgasm. When it crashed over her, she clamped her lips around my manhood and stopped moving altogether. I was close enough to my own climax that I reached down and quickly gripped the exposed base of my cock. A few quick, firm strokes, and I was squirting into her mouth.

She moaned appreciatively as I coated her tongue with my white-hot seed. My ejaculation wasn’t as strong as it had been before, but I don’t think she cared. She simply shuddered and moaned in the throes of her release. My orgasm subsided long before hers did, and I watched as aftershocks rocked her body.

We both practically collapsed—her against my leg and me against the back of the chair—and lay panting for a long time. My dick was slowly shrinking, but she didn’t seem inclined to let me go. I didn’t mind at all.


About fifteen minutes later, Susan stood up slowly and thrust her hand out to help me stand. I took her proffered hand, but used my other hand and legs to propel myself upright.

“Let’s go light the picture and magazine pyre,” Susan said. “And then we can have some lunch.”

I nodded and we headed toward the back yard. Once there, I used a rolled-up magazine to light the rest of the contents of the barrel. When everything was burning steadily, we headed back inside.

After lunch, I went back out to check on the burn barrel and then rejoined Susan in the house. We spent the rest of the day packing up Mr. Kestrel’s bedroom. Most of his clothes were going to the Salvation Army, but the furniture would go into storage for Gregory.

We finished a little before five in the afternoon, and walked back to Susan’s house in silence. We took a shower together, but once again, we were too tired to do more than simply wash. Afterward, Susan had dinner with my family in the clubhouse.

Dad had to fly a trip the next evening, so he planned to leave in the morning. Mom was going to drive him to Columbia, so he could jump seat back to Atlanta on a company flight. Because of the way his flights worked out, he’d have a short layover in Atlanta—where he’d spend the night at our house—and then he’d return to camp late in the month.

When we finished dinner, Mom suggested that Erin and I relax by the lake. She and Dad were going to spend some time with Susan at her house. I wanted to come along, but Mom told me it was just going to be adults at Susan’s house. Wasn’t I an adult too? Evidently not. In reality, I was too tired to argue, so Erin and I headed down to enjoy the evening breeze by the lake.


Friday morning, Mom fixed a big breakfast. Afterward, she and Dad went up to the cabin so he could shower, shave, and get ready to go. Susan stopped by the clubhouse and then walked back up to the cabin with Erin and me. I noticed Erin giving Susan appraising glances, but Susan affected not to notice. I smiled to myself at Erin’s inquisitiveness, but didn’t say anything.

When we got to the cabin, Mom was straightening Dad’s tie. Erin picked up his uniform jacket while I hefted his heavy Jepps case in one hand and his travel suitcase in the other. I chuckled to myself when I realized how much lighter the two bags seemed. I was much stronger than I’d been the year before, and lifted them with ease.

The car was parked behind the cabin, and Erin followed me as I walked back to it. She held the door while I put the cases in the back seat. Mom, Dad, and Susan came around the corner a minute later, and we all said goodbye to Dad. Mom knew Erin and I could look after ourselves—I’d be working half the day at Mr. Kestrel’s house, anyway—but she asked Susan to keep an eye on us.

After smiles and hugs, my parents got into the station wagon and Dad drove up the road toward the gate. Erin grabbed her towel from the cabin’s porch railing and headed down to the lake. We’d been at camp less than a week, but she already had a nice golden-brown tan. Since I’d been working at Mr. Kestrel’s house, I didn’t have much of a tan yet, but the time spent with Susan easily offset the lack. Susan smiled at me, as if reading my thoughts, and we started walking toward Mr. Kestrel’s house.


After two solid days of packing, we didn’t have much left to do. It was more than we could finish in one morning, but the end was in sight. Susan estimated that we had about a day and a half of work left. I was daydreaming about how much money I was going to make, and what I could spend it on, when Susan playfully jabbed me in the ribs.

“You thinking about Stacy?” she asked.

I blushed and shook my head.

“Oh?”

“I was thinking about how much money I was going to make, helping you pack up Mr. Kestrel’s house.”

She nodded, and started figuring in her head. “Just for the packing alone, it should be about $225.”

I nodded happily and she grinned at me.

“And with the fifty dollars from helping move all the stuff,” she said, “you’ll be a rich young man. Any idea what you want to spend it on?”

“Not really. I mean, maybe I’ll get something nice for Gina. If she’s still talking to me, that is.”

Susan looked at me slyly. “Oh,” she said musingly. “I think she will be. But it might be a good idea to get her something no matter what. Remember, you’re getting her something because you care about her, not as a reward because she’s still talking to you.”

I nodded.

“Have you thought much about what you’re going to say to Stacy?” Susan asked, smoothly changing the subject.

I shook my head.

“Well, I’m sure you’ll do fine. Just remember what I told you about reading signals, and making the first move.”

“I will.”

“Stacy has really changed a lot this past year,” Susan said. “Good changes, too. She’s a lot more confident. But I don’t think she’ll make the first move. Yet.”

“You think she’ll still want to ... you know?”

“To have sex with you?”

My face and ears heated, and I nodded.

She grinned at me unabashedly. “I think if you play your cards right, you might get lucky.”

“You don’t mind?” I asked.

“Mind about what?”

“That I want to ... you know.”

“Know what? You want to what?”

“You know,” I said insistently.

“Paul, you don’t have to tiptoe around me. I know all the words.”

I grinned sheepishly.

“Don’t be callous or tactless about it, but you can use the word ‘sex’ or ‘fuck’ around me.”

I nodded.

“So, let’s start again,” she said. “Do I mind about what?”

I took a deep breath. “Do you mind that I want to have sex with Stacy?”

“Not at all,” she said lightly. “As much as I enjoy sex with you, and that’s a lot, by the way, I know you need to spend time with people your own age.”

“Stacy’s not really my age.”

“She’s a lot closer to your age than I am,” she said.

“So?” I asked stiffly. “Age doesn’t make any difference to me.”

Her eyes softened and she put her hand on my cheek. “You’re such a wonderful young man,” she said. “But it makes more difference than you realize.”

I started to protest, but she silenced me with a finger on my lips.

“Stacy is really looking forward to seeing you. She may have changed a lot, on the outside, but sometimes, she’s still a scared young girl on the inside.” Susan paused and looked into my eyes as if sizing me up. “You know what it’s like to be scared and confused on the inside, don’t you?”

“Yeah,” I said heavily. “I do.”

“I know you do,” Susan said softly. “She may not act like it, but she’s still fragile. And young. In some ways, younger than you are. Just be careful with her.”

I nodded seriously. “I will.”

“I know you will.”

We shared a smile and she stood on tiptoe to kiss me on the cheek.

“Now,” she said sternly. “Let’s get to work.”

***

When lunchtime rolled around, we had accomplished quite a bit. The house was stacked with boxes, all neatly labeled with the name of the room and a simple inventory. Most of the furniture was in its original location, but the only room we had left to pack was the kitchen. The stuff in there would be donated to the camp, so we didn’t have to pack it as carefully. We would simply have to put it all in boxes, load it in the back of Susan’s station wagon, and take it down to the clubhouse.

We walked back to Susan’s house, chatting amiably. Since Stacy was spending the weekend at camp, Susan and I decided to take two days off. We would return to Mr. Kestrel’s house on Monday.

When we got to Susan’s house, she went in to take a shower while I went down to the lake to find Erin. She was lying on one of our lounge chairs, and looked up when I cast a shadow across her.

“Hey,” I said. “You ready for some lunch?”

“Yeah. I’m starved.”

“Well, c’mon up to Susan’s house, she’s gonna fix us sandwiches.”

Erin stood and swept her blonde hair up into a loose ponytail, grabbed her towel, and looked at me expectantly. With that, we walked up the hill together.

“What do you and Aunt Susan do at Mr. Kestrel’s house?” she asked, as soon as we were out of earshot of the other sunbathers.

“Mostly packing up his stuff. Some of it goes to the camp, some goes to the Salvation Army, and some stuff goes into storage for his family.”

“So you all aren’t ... you know ... doing it? I mean, all the time or somethin’?”

I looked at her sharply and she pulled up short.

“No,” I said with a tension-releasing laugh. “We’re not doing it all the time or somethin’.”

“Stacy’s coming to camp this afternoon, right?” Erin asked.

I thought we’d moved into safer territory, so I nodded.

“Are you two doing it, too?”

I almost choked on my tongue.

Erin took one look at me and knew the answer. After all, she was my sister.

“Is that what you think I do all day?” I finally asked.

“God,” she said distractedly. “I would. If I could, that is.”

“Would what?” I asked suspiciously.

She looked at me and blinked. “You know,” she said, blushing. “Do it. I’d do it all day if I could.”

I stopped walking up the hill and turned to face her. My heart was racing and my palms were suddenly sweaty. “Listen, Erin,” I said seriously. “If you weren’t my sister, I wouldn’t talk to you about this. I’m not some blabbermouth who’s gonna talk about the girl I’m having sex with. That’s just not cool. You understand?”

“No,” she said honestly. “I don’t understand. I mean, isn’t doing it just so cool?”

“Yeah,” I admitted. “It is. But it’s not something that you talk about all the time. Look at it this way ... How would you like it if your boyfriend...”

“Right! Like I’ve even got a boyfriend.”

“Okay, if you had a boyfriend,” I said.

She nodded.

“If you had a boyfriend, and if you had sex with him, would you want him telling all his buddies and bragging about it?”

She thought about it for a moment and then her eyes widened. She shook her head quickly.

“See what I mean. A guy who runs his mouth is not cool.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah,” I said, nodding theatrically. “So that’s why I don’t talk about it, why I don’t brag about it.”

“I guess I never thought about it that way,” she said softly.

“That’s okay, Er.” I turned and started walking again.

“So,” she said, catching up with me. “You never answered my question.”

I was hoping she’d forgotten about it. “What question was that?”

“Are you and Stacy doing it?”

Once again, I stopped and turned toward her. “Erin ... Why do you wanna know?”

“I dunno,” she said. “I just think it’s cool.”

I cocked my head to the side and looked at her coolly, inviting her to continue.

She blushed and looked at the ground. “Paul,” she said, her voice barely a whisper. “Sometimes, it’s all I think about.”

“What?”

“You know ... doing it.”

I was silent for a moment and she shifted her weight.

“I think there must be something wrong with me,” she said.

When I stepped close to her, she looked up at me tearfully. “There’s nothing wrong with you,” I said gently. “It’s normal.”

“It can’t be normal to feel like this all the time,” she said, stifling a sob.

“You have no idea how normal it really is,” I said, putting my arms around her.

“For real?” She looked up at me, hope in her teary eyes.

I nodded as confidently as I could. “Yeah. For real.”

“Sometimes,” she said hesitantly. “Sometimes, it seems like all I wanna do is...” She suddenly stopped talking and turned beet red.

“Do what?”

She looked at me and rolled her eyes. “You know.”

“No, Erin, I don’t know.”

“You know ... I mean ... touch...” She pointedly looked down and then rolled her eyes again.

I got the hint. I stepped back and held her at arm’s length, smiling reassuringly as I did. “You know who you really should talk to about how you feel?” I asked.

She shook her head, looking hopeful.

“Mom.”

Erin looked crestfallen. “I couldn’t talk to Mom. What would she know?”

I know it was the wrong thing to do, but I just couldn’t help myself—I laughed out loud. Erin looked devastated, so I soothed her quickly. “Mom knows a lot about being a perpetually ... well ... a perpetually horny thirteen-year-old girl. She knows a lot more than I do,” I said seriously.

“Do you think she’d talk to me? I mean, she wouldn’t ground me or anything?”

I shook my head quickly. “Listen, if there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that Mom knows a lot more about what’s going on than you’d think.” I shook my head ruefully when I considered how much she knew.

“You really think she’ll understand?”

“Yeah, I know she will.”

“I dunno,” Erin said dubiously.

“Trust me, Er. Trust me. She’ll understand completely.” I put my arm around her and turned us up the hill.

Erin leaned against me as we walked. She sniffled, wiped her eyes, and then looked up at me. “Thanks, Paul.”

“No problem, Erin. That’s what big brothers are for.”

***

Susan was fixing lunch when Erin and I stepped into the cool air of the kitchen. She had donned her customary bikini bottoms, and smiled at us when we entered. I wanted to take a quick shower before lunch, so I headed toward the hall bathroom. When I returned, Susan and Erin were talking about guys. Susan looked at me conspiratorially and I grinned in reply.

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