Chapter 7

We ended up in the shower together after that session. We were both sweaty and stinky at that point. She was satisfied in that way a woman can be before she becomes aware it’s possible to have a whole string of orgasms, if your man knows what he’s doing. And I was more than satisfied. I’d cum twice within an hour, something I’d done before, but this was much better than doing it with my hand.

Then we got out and Jennifer got dressed and said she was going over to Sandy Rogers’s house. Sandy was one of her better friends. I went to my room and crashed on my bed, taking a nap.

Jenn got home in time to shanghi me into helping her get dinner started. While we did that she told me about how Sandy was redecorating her bedroom and was painting it and all that kind of thing. I didn’t really care, but it was nice to just sit there and not argue about anything. I was finding that not arguing made things a lot more calm and happy around the house.

Mom got home and suddenly I was worried that she’d know, somehow, that something had happened. I mean women have a sixth sense about things, right? But she acted normal. Jennifer must not have been worried because she teamed up with Mom to get dinner finished and they chatted. Mom got the details on Sandy’s bedroom makeover, too.

Dad got home and we had supper. Everything was so completely normal that it seemed like I was in a dream.

The rest of the evening was normal, too. We watched America’s Got Talent together. We were all blown away by this magician who was also a professional football player who did a completely mystifying card trick.

Normalcy continued and Mom and Dad went to bed at ten.

An hour and a half later, as I lay reading more about Longarm, my door opened and Jennifer slipped in. She had on her signature T shirt, a longer one this night that came clear down to cover her hips.

She tiptoed quickly over to my bed and crawled up on it to straddle my thighs.

“Hi!” she whispered.

“Hi,” I returned.

“Have you got a boner?” she asked.

Longarm hadn’t been fooling around with any western women in the part I’d been reading, so I didn’t. I shook my head.

“Well, get one!” she whispered.

“What are you doing?” I asked.

Her answer was to take off her T shirt. She had left her panties back in her room.

“Will this help?”

I nodded, already feeling my cock getting hard. This was different, somehow, than what she’d done earlier. Maybe I sensed she was turned on instead of trying to push things.

She tried to pull my shorts down but her thighs were blocking progress and she had to scoot down. I lifted my hips to help and my cock flopped free to lie drunkenly to one side on my pubes.

She leaned down to pick it up and play with it as it stiffened some more. It was at this point that I learned that, despite the fact that she’d acted completely normally after getting her pussy licked and being fucked twice in one day, those events had been on her mind the rest of the day.

“You were in me today,” she said. It looked for all the world like she was talking to my penis. “You were a good boy. You made me feel very special today.”

Maybe she was talking to my penis. She sure didn’t look up at my face while she said these things.

“You deserve a treat,” she said.

“He already got a treat today,” I said.

Now she looked up at my face.

“A different kind of treat,” she said.

Then she leaned down and I realized she had decided to reward me (him?) by sucking her first penis. I realized this the second her mouth covered my whole cock and she sucked like a demented vacuum cleaner.

I know that every guy dreams of getting his cock sucked. I had, too, in that same misty vague way I mentioned before, when you really can’t imagine what it will actually feel like. Assuming any woman ever does it, which is not taken for granted.

The problem was that while I’d thought about it, I wasn’t, in fact, prepared for it to happen. This may be why my mind went into overload and I have a hard time actually remembering the details of what it did feel like. I can say it felt superb ... fabulous ... amazing ... but not the particulars of why it felt all those things.

Part of that might be that it didn’t go on for all that long. My mind sort of exploded into little bits when she first did it, and they were just floating back to take up residence in my skull again when she pulled off of me and said, “I like that a lot better than I thought I would, but I like the other more.”

Then she crawled up over me and, holding her pussy lips apart with one hand, reached for my saliva-covered penis with the other. Her runner’s legs had all the strength needed to support her as she lowered herself and notched my penis into the mouth of her pussy. Then she lowered herself the rest of the way and, with a long sigh, settled clear down to my balls.

She sat there for a handful of seconds with her head down, like she was looking to see if this was all real, and then looked up at my still-astonished face.

“I heard you can do it this way,” she said, simply.

Hearing one can do something, and being able to figure out how to do it properly, are two different things. Or at least can be. Instinct is a great resource upon which to call, especially in a situation like this. I’d guess it only took her thirty seconds to figure out that if she leaned forward and put her hands on my chest for support, she could jerk her hips in such a way as to make my penis move around inside her clasping sheathe.

“Oh yeah,” she sighed, when she found the right position.

Me? I just lay there, staring up at the young woman who was riding me like her pet pony. Her breasts were jiggling just a little bit as she moved around. It seemed like a good idea to reach for them and play with them. I mean they were right there.

“I feel you way deep inside me,” she moaned.

I did, too. She had surprised me and I wasn’t so overcome with passion. It was strange because it kind of felt like my mind was still out there, hovering, not quite ready to reassemble in my brain, and I could both feel what was going on and watch in a dispassionate sort of way. It was very cool.

It was also surprising, because I realized she could probably keep going for quite a while before I went off like a bottle of Diet Coke with a Mentos dropped into it.

She started going faster and moaning a little louder.

“Shhhhh,” I cautioned her.

“Don’t shush me,” she said in a harsh whisper. “This feels fucking amazing!”

“It will look fucking amazing to our parents if you wake them up and they come in here to see who’s dying,” I said.

“I’m not dying,” she whispered.

“You sound like you are.”

“Shut up.”

“You shut up.”

“Don’t spoil the mood, Bobby,” she complained.

“I have an idea,” I said.

I pulled her down until I could get my lips on hers. In the process it altered the angle of attack on her clit and let her put her hands on the bed under my armpits.

Turns out that’s a great position to let a girl hump the fuck out of a penis in her. Within thirty seconds she was slobbering all over my lips and whining so much that I grabbed my pillow and pulled it over the back of her head, sealing the ends against the sides of our faces.

By now she was just going wild, humping faster and faster and all I could do was hold onto that pillow and hope it muffled the noises she was making. The way she’d been moving when she was sitting up only moved me in her maybe a couple of inches, but when she lay down on me that let her pull forward almost all the way off of me and then slam back. My cock was rubbing her clit the whole way and it felt fantastic for both of us.

Then I felt it happen in her pussy. There was that peculiar fluttering/squeezing feeling that I now recognized as her having an orgasm and she gave out this pitiful, agonized sounding groan into my mouth. She was bruising my lips against my teeth, but there was nothing I could do about it. I almost came, but just before I got to the point of no return she stopped moving and just kind of melted, falling on my like she’d lost consciousness. She moved her face to one side and there was all this gasping and panting right in my ear. That went on for half a minute and she finally said something.

“Ohhh, Bobby, that was so awesome.”

“Can you be quiet now?” I asked.

She nodded and I moved the pillow. She lifted her head and shook it, to get her hair out of her eyes. I lifted one hand to assist and she laid her head back down on my shoulder.

My penis was not happy. It had been just about ready to transfer a load of semen from my balls into her pussy and everything had come to a jarring halt. It caused my hips to flex and move my cock in her about an inch.

“You didn’t cum,” she said into my ear.

“Nope.”

“You want to?”

“Of course,” I said.

“Okay,” she said.

With energy she dredged up from somewhere she rolled off of me to land beside me. Her left leg was pressed against mine, and she moved her right leg apart, bending her knee just a little. It opened up her pussy, but it wasn’t like before, that morning. This was more normal, more natural. It was simply her acknowledgement that I was welcome inside her.

I’d been quite happy once I got used to the idea of her riding me. It had been fun in a rushed, tumultuous way, to watch her find that kind of pleasure. With me in her, of course. But now there was an urgent need to cum rising in me.

I got up and got over her. She moved her left leg onto where I’d been lying and bent that knee too, pulling her heels up and letting her knees sag apart. It was unbelievably erotic to see her opening herself up for me like that. It was obvious she wanted me to be in her again. It was also obvious that the Mentos was about to be dropped into the bottle of Coke.

I didn’t want that to happen with me outside her, so I grasped my penis and tried to find where it belonged. Never having done this before, I wasn’t very good at it. Ten seconds later her hand came to bat at mine.

“Let me do it,” she said.

I let go and she got a grip and the next thing I felt was her heat around the tip of my cock. I confess I slammed forward pretty hard. My headboard impacted the wall though, thankfully, not too loudly. I had just started to worry about how to pump into her and stop the headboard from waking my parents up when my penis said, “Never mind. No pumping is needed,” and started coughing like somebody who tried to breathe and swallow at the same time and gets some fluid down the wrong pipe.

I just pushed, getting as deep as I could, and let it flow.

The fact that she pushed the pillow against my face when it happened didn’t bother me even a little bit.

I think what saved us that summer was the fact that, at the point where we started going all the way, there were only two weeks left before school started again. I say that because we were like honeymooners. Every day after our parents left for work we fucked each other limp. We weren’t very imaginative about it, meaning that, for the next two weeks, I either got on top of her or she got on top of me. We didn’t do it doggy style, or do it all over the house. I didn’t sit on a chair and let her straddle me so I could suck those tender nipples while she hunched forward and back. Not that summer.

All that was for later, perhaps next summer, when she would be sixteen and I would be trying to figure out what to do with my life.

I’m pretty sure that if there’d been more time and we’d had more unprotected sex, I’d have knocked the fucking shit out of her. Or up in her. You know what I mean.

But school did start and, suddenly, we could no longer take showers together or fuck our brains out on her bed all day. We had to go to classes instead. And both of us knew that doing it late at night was a very risky proposition, because she couldn’t help but be loud when she came and my movements always made the bed creak or the headboard start knocking.

Oddly, neither of us went crazy when things were curtailed. I think school put us in “thinking” mode. We both thought, for instance, about how dangerous all that sperm I’d bathed her womb with had been. In school there are frequent reminders about the dangers of unprotected sex. Like there are posters and the bowl of condoms that students can take one (“Just one, now!”) out of. Both of us realized we’d been really lucky that my sperm and her egg hadn’t gotten together like we’d gotten together. What I find astonishing to this very day is that, prior to going back to school, neither of us gave one iota of thought to the aspect that what we were doing might make her nubile womb quicken with my baby in it. Kids feel bullet proof. Stuff like that happens to other people, not them. This is one reason there are so many teen pregnancies. They don’t set out to get that way. It happens because they’re not thinking about the consequences of their decisions.

Then there was the fact that there are cultural and sociological expectations your peers put on you concerning how you act toward your sibling(s). You’re allowed to care about them, but not allowed to fawn over each other. That would be weird. I was expected to vette the guys who asked her out after she turned fifteen years and eight months old (our parents finally caved, just to get some peace and quiet) and was allowed to go out with guys on dates. She was expected to tell me to mind my own business. And we did all that, playing our roles because neither of us wanted anybody to know we loved each other way more than brothers and sisters are allowed to love each other.

That helped us manage our feelings. At home we could be more friendly toward each other, and were. That made our parents happy.

This is not to say there was no sex from late August to late May of that school year. Our parents were in a bowling league and they played bridge with some of their bowling friends. That meant that at least once a week we had the house to ourselves for a few hours.

The problem was that, finally, we were aware of the seriousness of the game we were playing. That’s a bad analogy. It was no game. Anyway, when we made love now, it was with the fact in mind that, with my bare penis in her fertile pussy, bad things could happen. Again, that’s a bad analogy. “Bad” is the wrong word for how we felt about that eventuality. “Unfortunate?” Yes. “At the wrong time?” That, too. But the thought of creating life together wasn’t abhorrent to either of us.

We just didn’t want that to happen right then.

And how did we arrive at that completely unconventional idea of family planning?

Well, it happened like this.

One night in December while our parents were out knocking down bowling pins, she was riding me. She’d grown taller, both in her arms and legs. That gave her more capability to move on top of me and she’d learned how to get herself off and get me off, too, in that position. I warned her I was about to cum and, it being the wrong time of month for that to happen inside her, she hopped off and finished me with her mouth. That was something else we had more experience with, by then. The first time she’d decided to find out what it was like to leave me in her mouth when I came she had almost lost it. With her mouth full she’d sat up and, with her elbows against her ribs, had waved her hands, chicken style. She looked around for somewhere to puke because that’s what she thought was about to happen and then she froze as the taste registered. She got this odd look on her face and, very carefully, swallowed. Then she opened her mouth and took a deep breath, licked her lips and swallowed again.

“That’s not so bad,” she commented.

“I’m glad,” I panted.

“I could get used to that,” she added.

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