It was like luck had struck, except not quite. Marti was definitely the hottest of the handful of girlfriends I'd had. Her parents kept her on a tight leash, but times she chewed through it, she was the one yanking up her shirt to shove her tits in my face.

Once we were free to do that, having gained a private moment, she was always eager and anxious for me to get her panties off. Marti loved it when I got to play with her pussy. Beginning with my fingers, and then stirring in the tongue.

Afterwards, sometimes, she'd jack me off. If she didn't instead become scared that her parents might be coming home. Twice she'd sort of sucked me off, little licks really, backing away when I finally came out of frustration. Making another mess on myself, just like if I'd been jacking-off, but without some tissues.

We'd been dating for several months, and were still nowhere close to real sex. Marti had ruined the high school rule: after three dates, you either break up, or start doing it.

And I was used to getting to do it. With a girl just as happy to be on the receiving end of the stick.

Instead I spent enough time jacking-off in my own room as if I didn't even have a girlfriend.

I should've just dumped Marti. Even my sister Angie laughed about what a tease she was. But, then, I was the one who'd seen Marti golden naked, spread in a bed, asking for a little licking.

It was one night, late, jacking-off to the earlier sight, and taste, of Marti's hot little body. I was close to ending, making some discreet sounds, when I heard other discreet sounds emanating from my sister's room. Our bedrooms adjoined, with twinned heating vents.

I quieted down and listened to my sister obviously pleasuring herself. As she got going, she got rather guttural. To her loud peaking I added my own great groaning. Through her own fog, Angie had to hear my tribute.

My sister was dating this really nice guy who couldn't quite decide. Angie had spread her legs per the rule; I'd caught them having sex. The problem was that he'd also been dating another girl contiguously the requisite times.

Her boyfriend was a sixteen-year-old boy suddenly blessed with two hot girls vying for his affections. When in his shoes--who'd want to change that status quo?

The situation certainly drove her to bed, for her own jack-off sessions. I listened to her. And I think she listened for me.

Mom one morning served up breakfast, complaining, "What were you two doing last night? It sounded like a wrestling match."

"I'm sorry we had the t.v. too loud," I offered.

"No. It was after the t.v. went to bed."

"Well, my crappy bed groans so loud every time I turn, it sometimes wakes me up. I remember fidgeting for a few minutes, but then I fell asleep."

I was lying and Angie was flushing up her neck to her cheeks.

Our respective self-abuse had suddenly coincided. Conjoined. And then continued. We both knew what we were both doing. Listening for the other. But we never said anything about it, other than blushing and averting our eyes in the morning.

After a hot while, the distance seemed ridiculous. We both knew; we both heard. The song was pleasure, in distinct stereo. I decided to push things.

I waited for an evening when the parents were out, and we were on the sofa watching a stupid but sexy movie on t.v. We were both squirming in our seats. Her hands were hidden under an afghan, so I couldn't see what they were doing. I was hugging a throw-pillow in my lap, playing that old game of Hide the Wood.

Finally I broached the subject. I lightly rubbed her knee, and then respectfully withdrew my hand. "As long as we're both doing it at the same time, maybe it'd be nicer if we shared the same room. Why not have fun and play together?" I didn't touch her again. I didn't want to be another pressing jerk, just another predictable boy.

She gave me a blank face. "I don't know what you're talking about."

My fingertips attacked her ribs, getting that great giggle as I tickled her. "You know exactly what I'm talking about!"

"Stop, stop!" she squealed--I did exactly what she told me to do. She settled down from her gasps.

I watched her face as she thought about it. I did touch her again, a finger tapping the tip of her nose once I saw her smile germinate and grow.

My sister got a smarty-pants face. "No touching? Just looking."

I was ready to agree regardless of terms.

Right after that the movie went to commercials and Angela excused herself. I thought she just went to pee, but then the movie was starting again. I got sucked into the petty plot, and it was when the commercials began again that I wondered what'd happened to my sister.

Just then she was in the doorway, stark naked. "What's keeping you? I thought we were going to play show & tell in my room." She was sprightly, bounded back into her room long before I lumbered off the sofa.

I caught up with Angie, cornering her in her room, naked on her bed with all the covers kicked down. Her fingers showing how she liked to play with her pussy. I was out of my clothes in two seconds, clambering on the bed between her knees, jacking my happy shaft like mad. The momentum got crazy for a bit, but then we settled down.

I was on my haunches, framed by my sister's knees. Angie began showing me exactly how she liked to touch herself. One hand was working a finger up inside, joined by a second then third finger, while the fingers of her other hand toyed with her clit. "God, I wish I had more hands to play with my tits."

That sounded like an invitation, but her clit hand left her pleasure to swat my hand away. "Andy," she admonished me, "I said no touching." So I settled back to enjoy the view, take in the show. I stroked my cock in gentle admiration, appreciation. It was the most amazing sight I'd ever seen. My hot little sister working herself into a frenzy; I managed to hold off when she went over the top. Panting at the passing scenery.

I slowed way down and watched her recover. I waited for her to start again, staring at my cock as she did. Angie got herself going again real good. It was so incredibly hot to watch, her fingers rubbing and pinching and thrusting, soaked with her secretions, her juices glistening down her thighs, pooling beneath, a dark circle of moisture on her sheet. Oh, the slurpy sounds she was making, the lustfulness of her breaths, the sighs and quick moans, the throaty groans as she got closer and closer. Just the smell of my sister set off fireworks in my brain. Angie was in a frenzy as I gazed transfixed at her swollen cunt lips, thinking how good that would feel around me. She went over the edge again, which got me giving my final croaks. Flailing mid-orgasm, my sister was finding and flinging my t-shirt at me. "Don't make your mess on me! Or my bed!"

I soaked my own shirt. After that, Angela was ready for true bed, dismissing me as done. I carried my soiled shirt back to my own damn bedroom. Where I soiled it again before I could fall asleep.

I wasn't really sure such events would transpire again, but they did. Several times, when the folks were out. Enough so that it got kind of boring. Sure, there was a wet smelly pussy and poking up tits on display, but I was still basically just jerking it.

I wanted my fingers to replace my sister's, my fingers sinking into her wetness. And the coin flipped--her small fingers wrapped around my stiffness. But that was against the rules. That was when I decided the rules were stupid. I was done playing that dumb game.

Angie came her brains out and was barely recovering when I decided I was done. I took my hard cock and went home. "Where are you going?" she asked in haste.

"Back to my own bed," I shrugged. "I'm tired of this tease bullshit. I'd rather go jack-off in private." I left my sister speechless, walking right out of her room.

I got into my own bed and I had this grand plan of slowly jacking-off, taking myself to new heights, though keeping it so quiet Angie would never hear a note of it. I got really hard thinking about it, but then my brain got distracted and I wound up just falling asleep.

And boy did I have a boner in the morning. I was fast asleep on my front--the damn thing sproinged me out the bed and onto the floor. I got back in the bed, and me and my boner made our accommodations ... there was no reason for us to not get along.

I made a big mess in a dirty shirt, having figured it all out.

I kept away from the occasions where I could've gone with my sister to play again in her room. Night after empty night. I refused to let her hear any sound of myself alone. I refused to join her. And I maintained that standard.

It was another night of the folks out and us on the couch with t.v. and pizza. We were both getting a bit itchy.

I broached the subject, totally out of the blue, "You know the reason I don't go in your room anymore is I'm tired of just jacking-off. To a beautiful sight, no doubt, but still..."

"What are you talking about?" she snapped at me.

"We're both in a dry spell, so why not?"

Angela's eyes went wide. "Oh, don't look so innocent," I chided. "We've both enjoyed masturbating together--my point is, why stop at that? We both need it. No one has to know about it. There's no babies and getting married involved--just us having a little fun while filling the gaps."

I reached over and squeezed her tit, making her squeal, making my appeal. I ramped my hand down to a loving touch.

My sister was shocked. "You're clasping my breast!"

"Which I've gotten to see often enough--but I want to touch it! We both could use it," I reiterated.

She pushed my hand away. "Not yet," she said, so seriously, "I'm still thinking about it."

I laughed, looking where the heat of my hand had been.

"What?" she poked me.

"Your mouth says, 'Not yet, ' but your nipple's shouting, 'Right now!'"

"Shut up, you dirty boy," she play-pushed me away. She was blushing like crazy--which was crazy cute--because she knew I spoke the truth. I was staring at the very evidence. As she blushed, her other nipple stiffened as well, twin points in her tight shirt.

My sister got up in a huff and started to say something, but then the folks were suddenly home early. Angie skittered off to her room. I stayed on the couch, watching stupid t.v. I had my pants under control by the time they came in from the garage.

They were bed-bound, and Mom shooed me off too, so she could turn out all the lights.

It had been a strange, and tiring night. By the time I crawled in bed, I was in lights out, done mode. I was just successfully drifting off when a sharp cry shocked me back wide awake. It was Angie, louder than ever. She began invoking my name. "Oh Andy, yes Andy!"

I thought she was faking me out, but then there was that first big groan, which sounded quite real to me. The sounds of my sister made me hard. And a little mad. Obviously, my job was to then jack-off just as loud. But I didn't do it.

Well, yea, duh, I did do it. But again I was very very quiet about it. I kept on being that way, to underscore my point.

A couple weeks later, there was a Sunday where the folks went to bed early for work, but we had the Monday off from school. It was one of those professional development days where the teachers had to go in and catch up on their work.

We were certainly old enough to be left home alone.

The thing was that night before. Well before the folks retired, Angie disappeared into her room, returning to the rest of us watching t.v. dressed for bed. She was wore pajamas so skimpy even Mom remarked. They were like the shorts and top for a 10 year old boy. They were in fact what I wore when I was ten. I always liked them, because the cotton was so thin and soft. My sister's theft of them was years old.

Angela just shrugged. "I get so hot under the covers." Once settled on the sofa, she pulled an afghan over her shoulders. Not under the covers, it was a little chilly. I took a glance enough at my settled sister to see how she let the afghan drape her strategically.

I couldn't deny the image. She was showing me the thin fabric pulled tight into her crotch. I just ignored it. It was all in deep shadow anyway.

I totally paid her no attention whatsoever.

It didn't take long for her to stand back up and declare herself as going to bed. The folks followed after the news. I stayed up alone to catch the last half of one of the later films where Godzilla is like a clumsy friend to humanity.

After that, I turned to bed myself. I hit the bathroom, and then turned out the few remaining lights. I was making my way down the pitch dark of the hallway, aiming for the light moonglow of the doorway into my room. I was just there when Angie's door opened, and I was blinded by the patch of a 60 watt lamp. I couldn't really see her. She was a dark blur in the brightness of her doorway.

She reached for my hand, and pulled me into her room, closing the door behind me. In the relative light, I could see she was still in her skimpy jams. The bottoms barely contained her bottom. As for the button down top, well, boys generally didn't have breasts, so the fabric showed the strain, outlandishly.