Chapter 3: Danni

I hadn't intended winding Paul up. I really did have a date with Guy Green, who was quite a hunk, and played football for the under-18 school team. And I really didn't know what to expect when we – if we – made out during or after. It was Rachel's idea to buy something racy, and get Paul to give me his opinion on it. I would have to be careful, I knew, because Paul can be an idiot and behave like the stupid teenage boy he is, so I knew I would have to put the frighteners on him from the start. On the other hand, Paul loves me – in a brotherly kind of way, and, yes, I have to admit, I love him. All three of us siblings love each other, deep down. Anyhow, I think I can trust him to keep his mouth shut and not blab to our parents. In fact, although I accused him of telling the whole school about my date, I didn't really think he'd do it, if I asked him not to. No reason to let him know I feel that way about him, though.

Paul is also a man – a young one – but surely, I thought, he would have much the same responses as Guy to seeing a woman – a young one – if he thought she looked sexy. I really wanted Guy to want me – not that I was planning to give up anything, like my virginity for instance. But I was desperate to know whether a man would find me attractive enough to make a pass.

So Rachel and I found this basque in Coming Trends, a new shop selling sexy outfits, from lingerie to "Naughty Nurse" to leather and rubber stuff, which I wasn't interested in even trying on. And then we got ready for the try-out.

Rachel and I carefully worked out where I should stand to change, so that Paul would be able to see me in the dressing-table mirror. I took a nice warm bath and trimmed the hair off my pussy mound so it wouldn't show when I closed the flap between my legs. Finally, I put the garment on and checked it for fit. I admit that when I looked at my reflection in the bathroom mirror, I was amazed at what the basque did for my boobs. I took it off again, and folded it back into the shop wrappings, so Paul would think it hadn't been out before – let alone tried on.

Rachel and I decided to set things up for the afternoon. Naturally, Paul was still upstairs, playing on his computer – or with himself, as I'd recently learned boys his age do. It was frustrating, having to wait until he'd finished his lunch before we could put our plan into action.

Oh, did I have fun! First off, I made sure my skirt showed plenty of thigh when I sat down, and then crossed my legs. Paul's eyes opened really wide and I got a warm feeling in my tummy. I could feel my nipples crinkle. So I teased him for a while, and then we put Plan A into action. I stood on the spot Rachel had marked with a tiny piece of paper on the carpet, and glanced at Paul, deliberately avoiding looking towards the mirror. No harm in letting him think he'd got one over on me. He was doing as I'd told him, and facing the wall, though his head was turned slightly and I had no doubt at all that he was staring at my reflection.

I shimmied out of my dress, removed my bra and glanced at him again. A girl's peripheral vision is quite good, you know, and I was perfectly aware of his interested gaze in the mirror. My breasts were tingling and my pussy was beginning to ache – pleasantly, I might say. I rolled my panties down and, with what in all due modesty I can only call a stroke of genius, I used a toe to move them aside, letting my legs open, no doubt giving Paul the opportunity of seeing my shaved pussy. I felt it spritz and moisture begin to gather on the lips.

Finally, when I felt I had achieved all I could at the stage, I got Paul to look directly at me. His eyes widened and his mouth fell open. It was very gratifying. Then he gave a little grunt – I don't think he was aware of it himself – and suddenly there was a wet stain spreading across the front of his jeans.

He fled from the room, red-faced and covering the stain with his hands.

Rachel and I high-fived each other.

'I guess that worked, ' she said in a voice full of awe.

I was still having difficulty believing that Paul could have come in his pants just from looking at me. Well, not just me, of course: the basque almost certainly had something to do with it. But, yes, me. My pussy spasmed and another lot of moisture – much more than before – oozed out of me and soaked the basque. I opened the poppers quickly and got out of my gift-wrapping, as I thought of it. The scent of me, from the basque's crotch, hit my nose. It was definitely the scent of a very turned-on girl. I felt the urge to rub.

'Sorry, Rachel, I've got to do this, ' I said, as, naked, I lay on my bed and let my legs spread. I soon had two fingers busy at my opening, and so enthusiastic was I that they slipped inside. A moment later, I felt my maidenhead with my fingertips at almost the same moment I felt it part and my fingers rammed as far as they could inside.

Rachel had been watching, and stripped off her own clothes – a skirt and top. No bra – and no knickers, the minx, I thought.

'Here, come and lay beside me, ' I said.

Rachel came and copied my position on her back.

'Let me... ' I said.

I reached over and gently rubbed my sister's opening. She stared at me for a moment, then lifted herself on her elbows and kissed me. Her kiss moved down my neck and onto my boobs. She began to lick my nipples. This was totally new to me, and much more sensational, literally, that if I played with them myself. I managed to reach her undeveloped breasts to lick and suck them, and felt her fingers at my opening.

It didn't take me long to cum. I felt the ball of heat build rapidly in my belly, and suddenly explode. I couldn't do anything except hump my hips against Rachel's hand and let my head roll from side to side on the pillow. As a first orgasm not resulting from my own efforts, it was a doozy. My pussy was soaked.

Rachel didn't cum. She kissed me and got off the bed. I stayed and would have liked to nap, but a few minutes later, Mum called us downstairs.

We looked at each other, and I guess the surprise was still on my face. Rachel smiled.

'Later?' she said.

'Definitely, ' I replied, 'and we have really to make you cum.'

'I'm probably too young, ' she said. 'I don't have my period.' She looked down at her body. 'I don't think I'm ever going to get boobs, and make Paul cum in his pants like you did.'

I got off the bed and hugged her.

'Don't be silly, ' I said. 'You're gorgeous. In a year or two you'll outshine me – in the boob department, and everywhere else.'

She had lost most of her puppy-fat and I could see that once she started to fill out, she would be really pretty. Wouldn't be long now, I thought, reflecting that Rachel was the age I had been when my boobs started to grow and my period came on.

She kissed me, on the lips, and I felt her tongue. I wondered how different it might feel if Paul – or Guy, I corrected myself – were to kiss me like that. Perhaps my brother would let me find out.

We had a normal evening together. Dad came home from work, we all sat down together for dinner, watched the TV for a while, then Paul, Rachel and I went to our rooms. A little time later, I heard the floorboard outside mum and dad's bedroom creak, and their door close very softly. I figure I know, more or less, what they're doing. Rachel does too. Our eyes met in a significant glance across the room.

I switched our computer on and logged in to a dating website. We can't use it, because dad's fixed things so we can't access such sites. (He promises to unbar them when we're eighteen. There's at least one geeky boy at school who knows how to get round parental controls. One of these days, I'll get him to teach me – but first, I really need to learn the basics of relationships with boys.) But we can window-shop. I click on the pages of men "looking for women", and there are loads of photos of hunky guys looking all masculine and macho. Actually, some are trying too hard, and make us laugh. And then there's a picture of one who looks just like Paul.

Surely it isn't him, I think. The picture is a selfie, taken probably with a mobile phone camera, so the quality is not the best, and the picture is a bit blurred. Definitely looks like our brother, though. I studied the background to the picture. There was what looked like a shelf – very out of focus – behind the boy's head, with something on it, but I couldn't make out what.

Whatever. Further investigation needed. Maybe I needed the lessons from the computer whiz sooner than I thought.

I looked at Rachel. She had a grumpy expression, and she was gently rubbing her mound through her clothes in an absent-minded kind of way. I figured I knew what she'd like, and moved her hand away, replacing it with one of mine. She put an arm round me and we moved together to the bed, and lay side by side. After a moment, we removed our clothes, as if by silent mutual agreement, interlocked our legs so that each of us could grind our pussies against the other's thigh, and the sensations this gave us quickly headed towards the 'big O'.

I went down on my sister, licking and sucking on her little bald twat, moving so I was on my knees between her outstretched legs. I was determined to do everything I could to bring her off.

She was nearly there when I realised the door had opened. I dragged my head out of Rachel's crotch and looked round. Mother stood in the doorway, with dad behind her.

They were both naked.

Mum came into the room. I was expecting her to tick Rachel and me off, but a small smile curved her lips. My gaze transferred to our father, and was riveted by the sight of his stiff cock. It stood straight out from his groin, and bounced a bit with every beat of his heart. My pussy seemed to tie itself in a knot, then promptly reverse the process. How could something that big fit in a tiny hole like mine, I wondered. Would Guy be as big? Was Paul?