Chapter 6

As I got up off the floor I thought about the irony of the fact that she could frolic naked with her brother, letting him put his fingers and tongue into her sex, but felt more guilty if she used an inanimate latex object to do the same thing. I thought back to those first years when I secretly pulled my pud, feeling ashamed about it, being terrified of being observed or discovered. Only after years passed did I decide it was normal, and just a simple biological urge to fill a biological need that couldn’t be filled in the ‘usual’ way.

Apparently Hannah hadn’t worked that out in her mind like I had. She still thought masturbating was ... dirty. Doing things with me was dirty, too, but since I was involved I was just as guilty as she was, so it didn’t matter that I knew what she was doing. And she didn’t want to think of her mother, who was on the highest pedestal they built, as being flawed enough to do that, too.

Guys think about things like that differently, though. I didn’t think of Mom as being flawed if she had a dildo. I thought it was hot. It wasn’t that I had incestuous feelings toward her. Not like what I felt for Hannah. Rather I just thought of it as a beautiful woman satisfying herself in a very sexy way. And I couldn’t blame her. Dad traveled for business once in a while and they were a very affectionate couple. I didn’t think about them having sex - kids rarely want to do that - but I knew on some level that they did.

And if Dad was gone and Mom got horny ... what was she supposed to do?

Hannah didn’t see it that way at all, though.

I didn’t know what to say to her, though. I was pretty sure it wouldn’t matter what I said, for that matter. Hannah can be very stubborn when she wants to be. I went to the bathroom, took a leak and then went back to bed and lay next to her again.

“I’ll be your dildo,” I said.

I know. It was stupid. Maybe I thought she’d stop thinking about the dildo if I alluded to us having sex, something we both kept trying to tell ourselves was a bad idea.

It almost blew my mind when her hand reached out in the dark, fumbled over my hip, and grasped my penis.

“You’re not even hard,” she said, accusation in her voice.

I leaned forward and kissed her shoulder.

“I could be,” I said.

Her hand abandoned me.

“No. And anyway, I’m not in the mood.”

“Can I still sleep with you?” I asked. “Please?”

She was silent for a long time then, still lying on her back, looking up at the ceiling, she said, “Someday I’m going to have a daughter and she’s going to come home from a bad date crying, and when I ask her what’s wrong she won’t tell me and I’ll tell her about this.”

“About what?” I asked.

“I’m going to say, ‘Honey, it’s not as bad as you think. When I was your age your Uncle Bobby begged me to let him get into bed with me. Just for sleeping, of course, but he wanted to sleep with me. So your life isn’t as complicated as you think.’”

“Uncle Bob,” I said. “My nieces and nephews are going to call me Uncle Bob.”

“That’s all you have to say about it?”

“I think you should tell her the story about how, when you were her age, your dildo went missing and you didn’t know whether it was your parents or your brother who took it.”

I got an elbow in my arm for that one, too.

“Go to sleep,” she said.

It might have taken another half hour, but eventually we both did finally sleep.

As it turned out, she had other things on her mind than her dildo when we got to breakfast the next morning and she had to face grownups.

I woke up around six, with dim daylight coming through my window. Hannah had rolled around in the night, like she always does, and ended up lying half on me with her arm draped over me. Her T shirt was up around her armpits and her breasts were delightfully bare. I was still on my back but I shifted to face her, reaching to get her hair out of her face.

Her eyes opened just as I got comfortable again, pressed up against her. I still remember the sweet feeling of her soft breasts crushing against my chest.

“Morning,” I said.

“Hi.” Her hand moved along my side.

I kissed her. I didn’t ask her if I could, I just did it. She kissed me back. I was already mostly hard, but it wasn’t a piss boner because I’d gone to the bathroom only five hours before. It had started getting hard as soon as I woke up. She pushed against it with her abdomen.

It was a nice kiss, and it lasted a long time. Finally she pulled her lips away and said, “Imagine what would happen if anybody came in here and found us doing that.”

“Naked,” I added. “Or mostly naked, in your case. But, not to worry, though. It’s only six. Almost exactly. Nobody else is up yet.”

She sat up, took her T shirt off, laid back down and wiggled against me.

I scooted down and took a nipple into my mouth and she made a humming sound as I sucked it softly. Her hands came to play in my hair. I did that for a little while and then wiggled back up to kiss her again.

In the process, the tip of my prick snuck into her hollow and did some kissing of its own.

I kissed her and she leaned back.

“It’s touching me,” she said.

“It’s been touching you for ten minutes,” I said.

“It’s touching me there.”

“It’s not in you, is it?”

“No.”

“Then it’s no big deal.”

I kissed her again.

This time she kissed me back. It went on and on and she started wiggling again. She didn’t raise her leg or open herself up or anything like that ... she just wiggled against me.

Then, so suddenly it was like magic, I felt something hot surround the tip of my penis. There was pressure, too, and a kind of resistance that was there and then gone again instantly. She stiffened and her head went back.

We stared at each other and her mouth opened and closed several times.

“Is that... ?” I finally asked.

“I think it is,” she whispered.

“You’re kidding,” I said. “You’re not even on your back.” Callow youth expected her to have to be in a particular position for something like this to happen. I didn’t think you could accidentally fuck your sister. I didn’t think you could accidentally fuck anybody, for that matter. We both had much to learn.

I felt something squeeze the head of my penis.

“No, it’s in me,” she said. She blinked three or four times. “It doesn’t feel like I thought it would.”

At that point the reality of it hit me. Actually, it hit me on several levels. On one I was naked, in bed with my sister, and my penis was in her, which meant that if anybody did come into the room, I was a dead man. On another I was confused as to how this had happened. On yet another my mind was evaluating how good that heat felt and that when something had squeezed it, it was a little like when her cheeks caved in and she sucked on it. There was another level, though, and it turned out to be the one with the most power over my actions.

On that level, my brain knew that only part of my penis was inside a woman (for the first time) and that while it felt most interesting now, it would feel much better if more of my penis got into her.

That’s the part that spoke cave man. It said, basically, “Fucking good! Me fuck woman now!” and made me hump upwards with my hips, and dig the heel of my top leg into the bed for purchase.

Within the space of an eye-blink, the only thing that was nestling into Hannah’s hollow were my balls.

“Oooof!” she gasped as she was filled. Her breath rushed into my face.

I learned a lot of things that day. One of them is that, while teenagers may not know how to make love, instinct tells them how to fuck just fine. I had jabbed into her four or five times before she reacted by grabbing the skin of my chest with her fingers. During the night she’d grown razors on the edges of her fingernails and they dug into my tender skin with cruel pain. That pain cut through my lust like a red hot knife through soft butter.

“Ow!” I yelled

“Stop!” she yelled in return.

Realization rushed into me like an orgasm, except it didn’t feel good.

“I’m sorry,” I gasped. I bunched my muscles to get out of her.

Her nails stopped puncturing my chest and one hand flashed to my hip, where they started puncturing my hip instead.

“Stop!” she hissed again. “Don’t move!”

I couldn’t help moving. At least part of me couldn’t. My whole penis was clamped in a hot, velvet vise, now, and it flexed in happiness at being where it was. I saw her eyes register feeling that flex.

“Wow,” she whispered.

“You okay?” I finally got around to worrying about her, instead of me.

“It doesn’t hurt,” she said, her voice filled with wonder.

“So you’re okay,” I said. I’d heard all sorts of stories about girls bleeding like stuck pigs when some guy rammed them full of dick for the first time and advice like “Hold her down and fuck through the pain, until she’s happy you did it.” “Wisdom” like that is passed from one generation of ignorant boys to the next, and has been for centuries.

“I’m full,” she said, as if that word had a special meaning.

“Please tell me you’re okay,” I pleaded.

Her hand eased off and went further behind me to simply pull me against her. Her lips came close to mine.

“I’m fine,” she said. She gave me the tiniest of pecks. “I feel so ... strange.”

“I should take it out,” I said.

“No ... you shouldn’t.” She licked her lips.

“What?”

“I can’t believe I worried so much about this,” she said.

Then she kissed me again. This time it was no peck.

She communicated with that kiss that she was not unhappy about anything. In fact, I soon got the idea she was very happy I had accidentally skewered her. Her arms went around me and she humped me!

The part of my brain that had led to this whole full penetration thing woke up again and said, “Kissing good. Fucking better. Kiss while fuck her!” Again, we weren’t making love. Not then. We just gave in to instinct. I kissed her back and pretty soon, due to both our actions, I rolled a little more on her and then a little more, until my knees were on the bed beside her thighs. Her legs were still clamped shut, as if they were trying to deny access to her honey pot, but it was too late. Later in life we would choose this position intentionally, because it created intense pressure on her clit. It also made things extremely tight inside her, which was a boon for both of us.

Looking back on it I think the only reason she had an orgasm at all was because of that pressure. If her legs had been open the whole situation probably would have played out differently. All I was doing was jabbing it in her. If you’ve ever been in a contest to see who could blow a balloon up the fastest it was sort of like that. I wasn’t so much pulling out as relaxing my hips to make another thrust and the tip of my prick pounded the end of her tunnel as her clit was just destroyed.