Chapter 1: Sibling Togetherness

Bill's Story - Part 1

I have a tendency to let the part of me between my legs do my thinking and that was the case twenty years ago. It's bad enough that Irene was barely fourteen years old at the time but also she's my sister. No wonder the events still haunt me.

I was twenty years old at the time and I had a 'steady' girlfriend, Cindy, who was just seventeen. We had a stormy relationship but for me the high point of each week was Friday. On Fridays my parents went to the Pub and Cindy and I had the house to ourselves. Well, not exactly to ourselves because my kid-sister was always there. But she was a TV addict and we could count on her ignoring us while she watched the mindless drivel on the television.

I said that Cindy and I had a stormy relationship. That was not because she wouldn't put out. It was because she sometimes would spread her legs in an instant yet at other times she would push me away because she 'wasn't that kind of girl'. And this was one of those nights.

After I took Cindy home I returned to find my sister still ensconced on the wide sofa in front of the TV. I was in pain. Cindy hadn't given me any relief but she'd done everything but. My balls felt like balloons, hot, tender balloons, and I went at once to get my pants off and put on loose fitting sweatpants so my sensitive cojones had room to hang.

Irene wasn't a beauty and, unlike Cindy, she was quite flat chested. I'm sure I didn't have any incestuous thoughts as I sat there beside her but I had an overpowering desire to touch her thighs. She was wearing a short nightgown and her full, firm thighs were clearly visible. And when I put my hand on her leg she didn't object and just looked at me with a shy smile.

For several minutes I sat with my hand on her thigh about halfway between her knee and her hips. Her flesh was warm and silky and springy and I lost sight of the fact that she was my sister and only fourteen years old. I began to caress her leg slowly and gently.

Irene moved a bit closer to me and with virtually no pressure from my stroking hand her legs parted. Primed as I was from my frustrating evening with Cindy my penis began to swell even though I still had no designs on my kid sister. Did she play with herself? Did she know the pleasure she could get from masturbating? My thoughts moved in the same direction as my hand as I stroked higher and higher, slipping up under her short nightgown to that forbidden place.

I might still have resisted my increasingly lewd urges if she had worn panties. But she didn't. My fingers traced the fullness of her upper thighs and then I suddenly felt the fur. My fourteen-year-old sister was more grown up than I'd realized and her teenaged pussy was covered with a thick mat of curly pubic hair. My fingers pushed into the forest to feel the wet, pulpy softness of a fat, thoroughly aroused cunt. She gave a soft moan and pushed her pelvis out and up against my hand.

And then I was suddenly aware that my kid sister's hand was worming its way under the waistband of my sweatpants.

"No Sis. Don't," I choked out although 'do' was what I really wanted to say. She didn't say anything but she also ignored me. Her fingers sought my throbbing tool and I managed with my free hand to push my sweats down and free my cock to her fumbling ministrations.

My hand was busy in the hirsute nest between Irene's widespread thighs. My middle finger stroked the soft, oily slit and found the hard, little bump that was her clitoris. No sooner had I rubbed her little cum-trigger than she began humping against my hand and with her free hand she pulled my fingers harder against her pussy. She whimpered and panted and gasped and I had no doubt that my kid sister was having a very adult orgasm.

It felt like my cock was being squeezed in a circular vise as Irene squirmed and wriggled through her climax, her action hand pumping instinctively on my throbbing tool. I think that the only reason I didn't cum then was that she was squeezing me so tight that nothing could get out.

I don't know if it was minutes or just a few seconds before Irene came down from her orgasm but I became aware that she was no longer humping my hand and her own had had relaxed its stranglehold on my cock. Her face was flushed; her eyes bright as she smiled at me and slowly pumped my pulsing prick.

I arched my hips and fucked my kid sister's hand as I felt the explosion begin. Irene was alternating her glances between my face and my cock and then as I groaned she uttered a sharp, little cry of surprise. A surprisingly long stream of gism erupted from the purple tip of my tool and arced out and down on her naked thighs. A second shorter jet came out and then the remaining juices dribbled out to trickle down over her hand.

Irene got some tissues and cleaned up the mess but neither of us spoke. It wasn't incest, I told myself. We hadn't had intercourse. But I couldn't help feeling sad and guilty that I'd taken advantage of my fourteen-year-old sister's innocence and naïveté. I felt bad then but if I'd known how low I could sink I might have just moved away.