Chapter 5: BJs

“Holy crap, B. Mari’ll be here any minute!”

“Then shut up and let me finish!”

Suiting action to her words, Belle wasted no time getting her mouth around my rapidly-expanding erection. My jeans were around my ankles as I sat in her desk chair, one eye watching the beautiful strawberry-blonde kneeling on the floor between my legs as she bobbed her head up and down in my lap, and the other eye trained out the window and through the blinds in anticipation of Mari’s car parking in the driveway.

Of course, I needn’t have worried that much. The front door was locked and Mari would never just barge in unannounced. Even if she came early, we’d have plenty of time to get my dick back into my boxer shorts and make myself presentable while Belle headed downstairs to let her best friend into the house. But there was just something so ... wrong ... about what we were doing that even the slightest percentage chance of discovery was enough to send me into paralyzing panic attacks.

I shouldn’t have this fear. I’d never before FELT this kind of fear because I’d never before had anything to HIDE. All my life, the girls had teased me and messed around with me and the worst thing anybody could catch me doing was masturbating within the safety of my big, empty house. Big deal.

But now? Now I was in Belle’s room getting a fucking blowjob from the literal girl-next-door I’d grown up with all my life ... and none of her so-called best friends even knew about it!!!

Yes, we were hiding our blowjobs from the BTC.

I couldn’t believe we were hiding our blowjobs from the BTC.

Shit, I still couldn’t believe I was even GETTING blowjobs.

And I REALLY couldn’t believe I was getting blowjobs from BELLE.

I’d been getting a LOT of blowjobs from Belle, actually. For someone who hadn’t even touched a penis for her entire life up until a couple of weeks ago, she was certainly making up for lost time.

I’d woken up that Sunday morning after the Halloween party slightly hungover but with perfect memory of everything that had transpired. That’s when the guilt came in, the mental angst of letting the little girl I’d grown up with commit such a debauched, depraved act making me feel lower than a horse turd. And her declaration of love at the end? What was THAT about?

I hadn’t been able to sleep in as I usually did on Sunday mornings, so I’d remained awake in bed for over an hour, agonizing over the previous night’s activities until I finally got up and started my morning routine. I headed downstairs and into the kitchen to start making breakfast for myself.

Mother was used to getting up before me and then either making brunch or driving us out to a restaurant. She was surprised to find me up and about before her, but she accepted my offer to make her breakfast as well. We made small talk during the meal and I doubt she had any clue what kind of mental turmoil I was in. She simply didn’t know me well enough to form a baseline for comparison. In the end, she started reading the business section of the newspaper while I returned to my room to change clothes and get ready for the day.

I’d waited until noon before walking over to Belle’s house. Her dad let me in and gave me a warm hug hello. I almost couldn’t hug him back, wracked with guilt for letting down this kind-hearted man who had been more of a parent to me than either of my biological gene-donors. How could I face him knowing I’d defiled his only child in such a degenerate manner? But Belle was super-happy to see me, and if she recognized the mental turmoil I was in, she didn’t let on. She simply turned and hopped up the stairs, leading the way into her bedroom while I followed, and closed the door behind me.

I knew Mr. K wouldn’t come to check on us. If any other boy had been alone in the room with Belle, you’d better believe the door would’ve had to remain open, but this was me. Matt. The son he’d never had. I’d been alone with Belle behind closed doors ever since the two of us learned how to close a door. I had his TRUST.

Lower than a horse turd was too good for me.

Not that Belle cared about how I was feeling. Strike that. She very much cared, she simply didn’t have any intention of respecting how I was feeling. To that end, she parked me on her bed, climbed into my lap, tenderly held my head in her hands, and softly pressed her lips to mine.

“Belle,” I groaned, prying her face off mine. “We need to-- mmph!”

She’d cut me off with a kiss.

So I pried her off again. “I’m serious. We nee-- mmph!”

Again, she cut me off.

So I pried her off again. “Belle, seriously. Last night ... oh holy crap ... Mmph!”

I’d been wearing comfortable Adidas track pants, nothing fancy, with a super-stretchy waistband. So it had been easy for Belle’s hand to slip down and grab hold of my cock, which she started squeezing and stroking while she once again sealed her mouth on top of mine.

The next thing I knew, I was flat on my back across her bed while Belle and I made out with a fury. Every time I tried to break the kiss, her hand tightened a little more around my rapidly-elongating shaft. Every time I tried to say something, she kissed me a little harder and what little mental processing capacity I had available for verbal communication got reassigned to sexual stimulation.

Perhaps two minutes later, Belle finally broke for air, slid down the bed, and pulled my track pants and underwear with her. “Keep it down,” she hissed. “Unless you want my dad to come find us with your dick in my mouth.”

I kept quiet. My dick was already in her mouth.

Five minutes later, I sat up against Belle’s headboard, breathing hard while she snuggled up against my right side. Her hand was beneath my shirt as she rubbed my chest, a silly smile on her face as she enjoyed having a belly full of my cum.

“Mmm ... tasty...” she giggled.

But once I caught my breath, I looked down at her and sighed, all the guilt and mental anguish returning to my beleaguered (but no longer distracted) brain. “We need to talk.”

“I’m done talking to you about this,” she said wearily, with a look that suggested she’d rather do anything than have another ‘talk’. “I really do love you, but I hate going in circles about the same fucking thing. I’m not your little sister! Fuck, I’m a month older than you! Get this in your head: We’re not related! I understand that we grew up together, and that you have a mental conflict about sexualizing me. But I really don’t think you’d have this problem if I was 5’10” with Sam’s boobs. When I complain about you not fantasizing about me because I’m a little shorty compared to everyone else, there’s more than a kernel of truth there.”

I sighed. “It’s not that you’re a shorty, although I’ll grant that if you were 5’10” I might be a little less protective of you. I just ... I can’t...” I trailed off.

“Come ON, Matty.” Belle shook free of my arm, sat up straight, and pivoted around to face me. “I literally have your sperm soaking into my stomach right now. What’s it gonna take for you to see me as a woman and not some little girl who needs your protection?”

“I DO see you as a woman! You think I don’t know you’re freaking hot and uber sexy?”

She crossed her legs into a lotus position and grinned at me. “You think I’m ‘uber sexy’?”

My heart broke. “I’ve thought you were uber sexy since we were twelve. Back then, I was your little brother. But I had such a crush on my big sister.”

Belle frowned. “You did?”

I nodded. “But I was the little dweeb next door who kept wanting to tag along wherever you went. You got sick of it and asked your dad once if he could make me stop coming over.”

“I did NOT.”

I nodded. “One of the most traumatizing moments of my life.”

Waving her hand, Belle said dismissively, “I’m pretty sure I was just overreacting to something. I never would’ve actually wanted you to stop coming over. You were my Matty.”

“Perhaps.” I shrugged. “The point is: when everybody else started wondering who had the biggest boobs in junior high: Sam or Mari, I didn’t even care. All I wanted back then was you.”

“And now you get to have me. Well, not exactly have me,” she clarified quickly. “I do love you, Matty, but I’m not breaking up the BTC for us. I’ve always enjoyed the teasing and flirting and messing around, but we’re not gonna start dating. I couldn’t take you away from the other girls. But I’m getting sidetracked. What I don’t understand is: If you’ve been crushing on me since we were twelve, why the hell have you kept me at arm’s length all this time?”

“I’m ... I’m...” I started twice, thinking that if I just started talking the words would come out on their own. But they didn’t, and I rubbed my forehead while shaking my head. “I don’t know exactly. I know the reason I’ve told myself for all these years, but right now I’m starting to think I’ve just been lying to myself to cover up the pain.”

“What are you talking about?”

I shrugged. “I couldn’t have you back then. You were all I thought about, and not even in a sexual way. Even today I can’t quite put my finger on it. You were best friends with Mari and you hung out with a bunch of cute tween girls. I was best friends with Alice and we played sports and card games like Magic. Our two social circles did not intersect in the slightest, but every day I got to come home and hang out with you, and spending those few hours with you between the end of school and dinnertime was always the highlight of my day.”

Belle glanced around her room, a smile on her face as she reminisced about those days. “Yeah, we had fun back then.”

“You’d been my playmate since we were little. Building pillow forts out of the couch cushions,” I said with a small chuckle.

“Playing make-believe with our LEGOs,” she giggled. “Your pirates always wanted to attack my princess castles for some reason.”

“Just running around the backyard with nothing but our imaginations.”

“Teaching you to bake chocolate chip cookies.” Belle shook her head. “You never did catch on very well.”

“I always wanted to follow the measurements on the box precisely.”

“When a true baker knows how to tweak things a little to make it just right.”

I rolled my eyes and waved my hand. “There was nothing remotely hormonal or sexual about it, but I was in love with you back then. I wanted to spend every waking moment possible with you. I dreamed we’d fall in love and get married one day after we both grew up, the classic girl-next-door romance from the movies, you know? But then in ... eighth grade ... I think? You started crushing on Taylor Guazelli.”

“Who?”

“You seriously don’t remember Taylor Guazelli?” I shook my head. “You didn’t care whether or not I was around – I was the invisible brother at that point. You whined and complained to Mari and your other little girlfriends about how he walked past you in the hallway and didn’t even look at you. You thought you were gonna die. You described in great detail how he was such a hunk, defining qualities that did not resemble me in the slightest. And I convinced myself then and there that I would never get to be with you. Mari even said one time that I was getting pretty cute, but you dismissed her comment immediately saying that -I- was like a brother to you.”

Belle frowned and gave me a strange look. I had paused, so she led me with a somewhat impatient, “And then what?”

I wasn’t a hundred percent sure myself, but I thought back to the way I’d felt back then, thought really HARD and tried to will myself to bring such old memories back into clarity. I don’t know if I succeeded or if I was just drawing new conclusions from old data, but after a few more seconds of trying to make the puzzle fit in my brain, I said, “I think ... I think ... I think that’s when I decided I could never consider you as a potential partner because you were like a sister to me. Rather than let myself be hurt by rejection, I just ... categorized you as out of bounds. It was easier to believe than continue to hope you’d eventually see me as man but be perpetually disappointed.”

Belle frowned. “Umm ... okay...” She furrowed her eyebrows and tried to process that.

“You know, we might be able to ask Alice. I’ve told her a few times about various crushes I had back then. She might remember some of this part, or at least verify how obsessed I was with you back then.”

“I just might do that.” Belle popped her eyebrows. “So if I have this right, you put a mental block around me, convincing yourself that I would only ever be your sister, and THAT’S why you’ve never been able to fantasize about me or otherwise get ... well ... intimate?”

“I think so?” I said uncertainly. “In a way, the origin of the mental block doesn’t even really matter. It’s there. And even now, it hasn’t gone away. Like you said: you’ve got my sperm soaking into your stomach right now. We’re not related and clearly I’m not the one molesting you or anything like that, and yet I can’t help but feel this guilt inside like I’m an incestuous bastard for letting you.”

“Uggghhh,” Belle groaned, burying her face in her hands. “You are NOT an incestuous bastard. We aren’t even fucking related!”

“I know, I know.”

“So how do we get you over this mental block? Because I REALLY don’t want to keep having these conversations every time I wanna do something ‘uber sexy’ with you.”

“I don’t know.”

Belle took a deep breath, let out a long exhalation, and then hopped off her bed. “Okay fine. C’mon. Let’s go.”

“Go where?”

“Back to your house. I’ll tell my dad we’re going out but will be back in time for dinner.”

“Um, okay ... But we’re actually going over to my house?”

“Yep.”

“To do what?”

“Well I’ll tell you what we’re NOT gonna do: We’re NOT gonna keep talking about this!”

“WHY are we still talking about this?!?” Belle screamed at the ceiling, not quite loud enough for her dad to hear next door, but pretty loud. “I want to. You want to. Why is that not good enough?!?”

I’m getting ahead of myself again.

Mother was still home when Belle and I walked in. Belle greeted her politely, Mother asked all the expected questions about how things were going, and after completing the required amount of small talk, finally asked what the two of us were up to. Belle smiled and announced that we were here to bake chocolate chip cookies, which was news to me. But I just smiled and nodded silently until Mother said she was going out and said, “Have fun you two!”

To my utter and complete surprise, Belle and I actually made chocolate chip cookies. She knew her way around my kitchen pretty well after all the Friday night dinners we had with the BTC. And the longer we spent baking, the more I forgot about all the angst and guilt over my incestuous bastard behavior.

After the cookies were finished, we pulled out a tub of vanilla ice cream and made ice cream sandwiches, which didn’t work very well because the cookies were still too hot, but they were quite tasty nonetheless. And afterward, Belle dragged me up to my bedroom and asked me to find my old Magic: The Gathering cards so I could teach her how to play.

By this point, I had NO IDEA what was going on, but I went along with it. She was pretty bad at the game. Not that she wasn’t smart enough to pick it up – Belle was a straight-A student – but there are a lot of complicated mechanics involved and the decks I had built at that point were pretty advanced. No matter, she wasn’t actually interested in playing for very long.

We were in the middle of our second game when Belle set down her hand, got up to her knees, and leaned over so she could kiss me. I had been so concentrated on my hand that I didn’t even realize what was going on until her face was only inches away from mine, and once her tongue slipped into my mouth I forgot about everything else.

I promptly forgot about the game. I forgot about the cookies. And I forgot I was supposed to NOT be doing this because I thought of Belle like a little sister.

All I felt were the fireworks of joy exploding in my mind and my heart as Belle ... my Annabelle ... kissed me.

We’d been sitting up playing cards on my bed, and Belle swept them aside without a second glance. She pressed me onto my back and straddled my hips, her tongue spearing down into my mouth over and again like a fish-hunting bird of prey. She mewled into our lip-lock, her arousal quite evident. And then moments later, she sat up and ripped her sweater over her head.

I held my breath gawking up at her. Although she’d given me blowjobs both last night and this morning, Belle had remained fully-clothed for both of them. And while I’d seen her in her bra or in skimpy bikini tops that covered even less than her bra, the moment Belle unclasped her bra this afternoon and tossed it aside was the very first time I ever laid eyes on her perfect breasts.

Okay, I actually glimpsed them once before when Sam got all six girls to line up and flash me that one time. Still, this was my first chance to just stop and ogle away to my heart’s content without any distraction, and I truly mean that Belle’s breasts were absolutely perfect. She was a goddess scaled down, with perky 32D boobs that fit her frame perfectly (which to me meant being a little top heavy). Let’s face it: I like my girls top heavy. Sam, Mari, and Naimh were flat out boobalicious with their big Double-Ds that overflowed my hands. Zofi’s D-cups were somewhat comic book disproportionate to her model-thin physique. Alice wasn’t quite as skinny as Zofi, but her D-cups still seemed overly large for her otherwise slender athletic frame.

Proportionally, Belle was just as top heavy as, say Zofi, but she was a petite little doll so the volume wasn’t quite up there with the others. And while her boobs were definitely on the large side, they were just so firm and upright without a trace of sag that it seemed impossible that they weren’t fake. But as soon as she pulled my hands to them and I felt their pliant softness, I knew with a hundred percent certainty that they were indeed all real.

And I devoured them.

Belle moaned and groaned and whimpered my name while I gave her tits a tongue-lashing. I suckled and fondled to my heart’s content. Very clearly, I’m a tits man, and I’d ended up with the most amazing circle of friends in that regard (or did the circle of friends lead to the fetish?). I made each pink nipple stand up and salute, and I bathed those beauties with love until she couldn’t take it anymore and rolled off me.

“Take my pants off,” Belle husked urgently, grabbing my wrists and directing them downward. “I wanna know what made Holly rave about how you were such a natural at eating pussy.”

With a grin, I eagerly leapt to the task, taking a firm grip on her waistband and jerking hard. I didn’t quite get it right at first, having never before taken someone’s pants off other than my own. The geometric angle of my arms to the direction of travel was a little weird at first, as was the fact that girls have hips, hips that are typically several inches wider than her waist, much like Belle’s hourglass shape, not to mention her shapely ass. But eventually I figured it out and managed to drag both her pants and panties off together.

Belle was bare-shaven, not a surprise given some of the bikinis she’d worn over the summer. Of the BTC I was pretty sure only Alice, Mari, and Naimh had any pubic hair. Unlike Holly’s welcome and waiting open labia, Belle’s were tightly closed, as if symbolizing a pair of doors just waiting to be opened for the very first time. But I could see a thin line of moisture secreting through from within, and after I parted her thighs out to the sides, I took a long lick through her channel from base to top.

“Ohmigawd,” Belle shivered and moaned. “Do that again.”

So I did it again. And again. And again.

Little by little, Belle’s flower petals opened up to me. Once she cracked open a few millimeters, I could even feel the hard nub of her clit near the top. And by flattening my tongue and firming it up, after a while I could even penetrate her pussy a couple of inches by pushing my tongue inside.

Belle announced her first orgasm when her fingers combed through my hair and suddenly yanked none too gently. I had often wondered if Holly overstated my cunnilingus abilities, buttering me up or otherwise attempting to boost my confidence so that I’d fuck her that much better afterwards. But if Belle’s reactions to my oral attentions were sincere, I was two-for-two on the pussy-eating front.

I never asked Belle to teach me. I assumed she knew as little about eating a girl out as I did, even if she had her own box to play with. I pretty much just did the same thing I’d done to Holly, which was to read my lover’s reactions and act accordingly.

Flicking her clit with my tongue over and over again definitely got her going, but just as with Holly, after a while the technique became predictable and I had to change it up. I switched to more of a sucking motion for a while, and then a few minutes later I flatted my tongue and sort of grinded it down against that little nub. And a few minutes after that, I pointed my tongue so I could swirl it around and around the circumference of Belle’s clit.

“Ohmigawd, Matty...” she moaned every so often. “How are you doing this to me?”

“Right there, right there, ohmigawd, right there!” she whimpered a few times when I found a particular rhythm on a particular spot that just flat out worked for her.

And “Holy FUCK, Matty! Ohmi ... GAWD! I’m gonna cum! You’re making me cum! Matty’s making me cum! OHHHWWWAAAAAAAUUUUUGGGGGHHHH!!!”

She did that one twice.

No two girls react the same, and I already knew my “routine” would not be nearly as consistent as my massage routine. But I definitely wanted to refine and fine-tune this particular routine, because I had so much fun making Belle both scream and cream that I knew I’d want to do it again.

And again and again and again. Maybe the best way to get over this “she’s my little sister” mental block was just to keep going down on each other and making out until she truly became a sexual being to me because it would just be too ridiculous for me to think otherwise. At least, that’s what I had started to think by the time Belle squeaked and screamed her fourth orgasm, after which her legs collapsed flat out to the sides, nearly doing a full split. And as she grunted and gasped for air, she started tugging at my hair while moaning, “Matty ... Matty ... Come up here ... Come up here...”

I sorta figured Belle could stand one more orgasm. After all, she hadn’t rolled over into a fetal position on her side begging, “No more, no more.” So rather than allow myself to be tugged upward, I tried to keep licking at her clit.

But she insisted on yanking and yanking and finally stopped, groaning, “I need you to get up here and fuck me.”

THAT made my eyes pop open wide. “Umm, what?”

“Fuck me, Matty. I want it. I need it.” She held both arms out to me, her hands gesturing urgently for me to come to her.

Annnd the mental block slammed back down. Having sex? With Belle? No way. Going down on her was one thing, but deflowering my little Annabelle? No fucking way. I would NOT be that kind of molester.

“I can’t,” I said dejectedly, pulling back and propping myself up on my elbows.

Her legs closed in to either side of me, and she drummed her heels on the mattress like a toddler throwing a tantrum. “Matty, it’s me.”

“That’s the problem.”

“I want you. I need you. I need you deep INSIDE me.” She started to prop herself up on her elbows, staring at me with an expression of unadulterated lust. “I already told you last night you could have my virginity.”

I sat back on my heels and wiped my soaking wet chin with my forearm. “And I’m incredibly honored that you’d entrust me with that, but ... I mean ... are you even protected?”

“You can use a condom.”

“I don’t have a condom.”

Belle sat up straight and looked agog at me. “What kind of teenage boy doesn’t have any condoms?”

“The kind of boy who committed himself to the BTC, all of whom swore they’d never have sex with me!”

“We never swore any such thing!”

“Wait, really?”

“MATTY!”

“Okay, okay, getting sidetracked.” I held up my hands and waved them defensively. “But seriously, Belle. We can’t. Not like this.”

“Not like what? In your room? On your bed?”

“No, not that. I ... I just can’t.” I rubbed my forehead and winced.

Belle knew the look. By now, she knew it well. It was the look that told her I was locked up because I still thought of her like a little sister, and she held up her index finger and waggled it at me. “Oh, no. Oh, NO. Do NOT tell me we can’t have sex because you see me as your little sister.”

I blushed pink, averted my eyes, and shrugged. “Fine, I won’t tell you.”

“Fucking A, Matty! Am I not beautiful?”

“Of course you are.”

“Am I not fuckable?”

“Of course you are.”

“Do you not stare at this naked body and think of how amazing it would feel to bury that big gorgeous cock of yours all the way up my virgin pussy?”

“Of COURSE I do!” I gazed down at her puffy pink slice of heaven, with glistening rivulets of girlcum trailing down her crack. “But ... but...”

“Don’t you DARE fucking say it!”

“I’m not saying it! I’m not saying it!”

“WHY are we still talking about this?!?” Belle screamed at the ceiling, not quite loud enough for her dad to hear next door, but pretty loud. “I want to. You want to. Why is that not good enough?!?”

“I don’t know!”

Rolling her eyes and shaking her head, Belle turned and flopped off my bed like a fish on the deck trying to get back to the water. Eventually she managed to get to her feet and started hunting around for her clothes.

“Belle ... I’m sorry...” I whimpered. “I love you. I wish I could get over this block, I really do.”

The L-word caught her attention, and she immediately froze. Blinking fast, she looked over at me and arched an eyebrow. “Do you? Do you really love me?”

My mind racing, I could scarcely hold three thoughts together. But I knew the answer with absolute crystal clarity, so I stated quite seriously, “Yes. I love you. I always have.”

Belle’s eyes narrowed, and she stared up at the ceiling for a moment before sighing and shaking her head. “But you love me as a little sister, right?”

I shrugged helplessly. “You told me not to say the s-word.”

Shaking her head even more vigorously, Belle focused on hopping back into her panties and pants, and then re-clasped her bra around her back, and finally shrugged into her sweater. I had never taken my clothes off in the first place, so I simply sat in the desk chair watching her get dressed without an ounce of arousal.

Once completely clothed, Belle turned to face me and crossed her arms over her chest. Her jaw was set, and her pale green eyes NOW blazed like some kind of evil robot. Even though I was quite literally a foot taller than her, she loomed tall and intimidating over me at this moment. And after pursing her lips and tapping her toe, she finally exhaled and said, “You seemed to be able to get over your mental block both when you were going down on me and I was going down on you. You were even able to get over it when we were just kissing. It seems to me the only time this mental block is able to actually stop you is when you have time to actually think about it. Otherwise, if we can just get straight to the action before you have time to really think about it, we can do just that: get straight to the action before you have time to really think about it.”

I blinked twice, processing all that for a moment. “Uh, yeah. That’s actually exactly what I was thinking right before you asked me to come up and fuck you.”

She pursed her lips again and sighed. “So I sealed my fate when I stopped to tell you I wanted you to come up and fuck me.”

I blinked again. “Uh, something like that.”

“So the solution would seem to be that I should just mount myself on you when you’re not really expecting it. Like ... start a blowjob, make sure you’re lying down flat, and then just climb into your lap and impale myself. Sound about right?”

My throat tightened, and I suddenly had trouble swallowing. “Maybe this isn’t such a good idea.”

She waved me off dismissively. “Doesn’t matter right now. First things first: I need to get on the pill, then finish my period, and that’ll take like three weeks. Otherwise if I take the time to try and roll a condom onto you, you’re liable to go into vapor lock and start whimpering about how you’re molesting me or some such bullshit.”