Chapter 2

I was in a hazy world, where my sister stood naked before me, asking some kind of question which I wasn’t at all sure I knew how to answer.

Then, understanding hit me like a brick. My sister ... my big sister ... my supremely confident, all knowing, Queen of the High School sister ... didn’t know whether she looked good naked or not.

I had the opportunity of a lifetime. I could have said, “Gee, is that all there is?” or maybe, “Whoa, sis, don’t be doing that for any guys you really like,” or even, “Well, it’s hard to get into modeling anyway, even if you do have a pretty face.” All the cuts she’d thrown at me, all the bossing around she’d done, all the times I’d wanted to choke the life out of her ... all of those could have been revenged right then and there.

But you know what? None of those things even flitted through my mind. I was in love. She was the most beautiful creature I’d ever seen, Playboy included. Right then and there I’d have rather looked at her like that than any movie star, or cheerleader or anybody.

I had to swallow before I could say anything.

“You’re beautiful,” I said.

Go figure. I could have waxed poetic. I could have been articulate and suave. I could have said something clever that would make her love me like I loved her at that moment. And all I could come up with was something just a bare step higher than, “Hey babe, you’re pretty good looking.”

It was a night (day too) for astonishment.

The way she reacted to those two little simple words was astounding. If you’ve ever seen that movie called True Lies, where Jamie Lee Curtis goes to this hotel room and a guy (her husband, but she doesn’t know that) tells her to dance. She’s the most amazing actress in that scene because she’s all awkward at first, and her arms and legs don’t work right, but slowly (and suddenly, somehow) she gets into it and then dances in the most sexy way imaginable. My sister looked just like that. First she relaxed and her awkward stance vanished. She got this smile on her face that just made me want to squirt right then and there. And then she rushed to the bed and leaned over and kissed me right on the lips.

Man, her lips were warm and soft. She was moving her head around as she kissed me. I was so surprised that my eyes were still open, but I could see hers were closed. Everybody knows that means a girl really means it when she kisses you with her eyes closed. Ricky Thompson told me that last year and he’s the smartest guy I know. Anyway, it was obvious, even to me, that she’d done this kissing thing a lot. I had never been kissed like this and even I could tell she was an expert. So could my dick.

She was sucking somehow and when she pulled away from me my lips stuck to hers for a second.

“Thank you,” she breathed in my face.

“No problem,” spouted out of my mouth.

It was a habit. I always say that when somebody says “Thank you.” But it sure sounded stupid right then.

Jill didn’t seem to notice though. She grabbed the sheet, which was at my waist, and whipped it back to reveal me in my briefs. My PJs were still a little damp, hanging on my desk chair, so I just wore my underwear to bed.

But briefs kind of do a really good job of showing off what you have, you know? And what I had was already pretty excited. It had started getting excited when she took her shirt off, and that kiss sort of finished the project. I was hard as a rock and the lump even looked huge to me. I glanced at her and she was staring at it.

“Take them off,” she said softly.

Well, duh. Why hadn’t I already thought of that. I wiggled them down, unleashing the donkey dick. Unlike her, I wasn’t worried about whether she thought it was pretty or not. I just wanted something to happen to it.

“Wow,” she said. It wasn’t an excited kind of wow ... more of a “I don’t know what to think,” kind of wow.

“Wow?” I responded. Now I was a little concerned.

“It’s bigger than I thought,” she said.

“What do you mean?” I asked. “You just saw it this morning.”

“Not really,” she said, her eyes never leaving my prick. “Everything happened so fast I never really got a chance to look at it.”

No slow motion for her, I guess.

“I guess it is a little bigger than usual,” I admitted. I had suffered in gym class for two years. I had an unofficial nickname - “Hoser” - which was awarded to me by a popular guy who liked me. His nickname for me replaced “Donkey Dick”. Most of they guys didn’t hassel me much any more. I guess they were all used to it. My sister wasn’t, and I was afraid she was going to turn around and leave.

“Are you kidding me?” she asked, finally looking at my face. “That thing’s fucking huge.”

I had never heard her use a single bad word in my whole life. Oh, she said “crap” and “bull” and maybe “damn”, you know ... all those sort of half way curse words that old people frown at ... but I’d never heard her use the F word.

“It’s not like I’m deformed or anything,” I said, slightly injured. Here I had called her beautiful and she was saying I was some kind of monster.

She looked back at my dick, and then back at my face.

“I jerked off Danny Trimble after Prom. I could get my hand all the way around his with no problem,” she said. Danny was a senior and thought he was the cock of the walk. He was the captain of the football team and could bench press twice his body weight. He was a jerk, though, and I had never fantasized about him doing anything to Jill. I didn’t want to think about it now either.

“I’m not that much bigger,” I said. I had always been a little worried about being some kind of freak. It’s not something you can ask the school counselor about, or your Mom. I’d seen Dad nude before, and If I had to show him mine it would make him feel bad. I don’t know whose dick genes I got, but it wasn’t his.

For answer she reached out and put her hand around my dick. It was leaning over again, kind of pointing up at my face like it always did when it was nice and hard, and she stood it up. All I could see was the back of her hand because she grabbed it with her right hand. It felt wonderful.

“Oh my gosh!” she said.

“What?”

That word, on paper, just doesn’t communicate the anguish I felt. She sounded worried, like she’d just found a half a worm in an apple she’d taken a bite out of.

“Look!” she said, still holding on. I lifted my head, straining my neck.

“What?” I asked again, this time not quite so anxiously. “I can’t see anything.”

Then she changed hands. Her first finger and her thumb were an inch apart, and she was squeezing my cock hard.

“It’s a fucking monster,” she breathed. “You have a Shrek dick!”

I had a fleeting fantasy in which I had my sister’s brain, and in that brain Shreck and Fiona were naked and going at it. I reached down and gripped it underneath where her hand was. My forefinger and thumb touched. I was really worried now that she was going to call the whole second half off, and I was trying like crazy to convince her I was normal.

“See? You’re hand’s just small. There’s nothing wrong with it,” I complained.

“You dork!” she said, without heat. “You can hold a basketball with one hand on top of it. Look, your hand and my hand don’t cover the whole thing.”

She was referring to the fact that her hand covered some of it, and my hand covered some of it, but there was a little at the bottom and maybe an inch at the top that were still visible.

“Oh,” I said. She always knew how to take the wind out of my sails, even when she wasn’t trying.”

“I can’t help it,” I said, for lack of anything else to say. I was so upset that I started to get soft. “What’s the big deal anyway?” I whined.

“What’s the big deal??” she asked, looking at my face. “That’s supposed to go inside a girl. That’s the big deal. That thing would kill a girl. It would massacre a girl. It would tear her in half!”

“Okay, okay, I get the idea,” I moaned. “So what you’re saying is I’ll never have sex.”

“No WAY, Ho-sea,” she rhymed again. “Why is it getting soft?”

She was a girl. She had that talent of changing the subject in less time than it takes a guy to keep up.

“You call it a freak of nature and you’re surprised it gets unhappy?”

“I don’t want it to get unhappy. Make it get hard again,” she ordered.

“I can’t just make it get hard,” I said in disbelief.

“I bet I can,” she said.

She started stroking it and playing with it. It was about the consistency of a hot dog that’s half cooked, you know where you can bend it a lot and it won’t break, but it’s still kind of firm?

She was right. She’d been bending over all this time, and her arm covered her breasts. But now she was using her left hand and I could see them again. I mean a naked girl was jacking me off. What guy could resist that, even if she did call him a freak?

Well, she got it hard again and when it was standing tall she stopped. She looked at me and kind of frowned.

“I’ve only done this once, so I’m probably not very good at it, but if you make fun of me I’ll never do it again ... ever.”

She didn’t wait for me to say I understood. Instead she bent down again and put her mouth over the head of my prick.

Ohhh Mother McGillicuty, did that feel good. My heart started thudding in my chest again, and I couldn’t catch my breath, and the muscles in my back kind of twanged and my hips came up off the bed.

She choked on it about then, and when she pulled off coughing I thought she’d kill me. But all she did was say, “Stay still,” and went right back to sucking my knob.

I don’t really have the words to describe it. I had jerked off plenty, and that felt good. And she had rubbed along it with her pussy and that felt even better. But this ... this was the stuff dreams are made of. Her mouth was hot, and slick and I could feel her teeth and her tongue and her cheeks all at the same time.

“Stop!” I ordered weakly, pushing at her head.

She pulled off. “What? Am I doing it wrong?” She was frowning.

“No!” I gasped. “You’re doing it perfectly. But I don’t want you mad at me and if you keep going, in a second you’re going to be pissed as hell.”

“Already?” she beamed. “You’re gonna shoot already?” It was like someone had told her she’d just won American Idol or something.

She looked at me critically.

“I’ve never tasted it before,” she said, like it was some foreign food she’d just heard of and been offered. “Mandy Phillips says it tastes nasty.”

“That’s why I told you to stop,” I said, my breathing a little more normal.

“Mandy Phillips is an idiot,” she said. “She doesn’t even like Peanut Butter, banana and Mayonnaise sandwiches.”

Neither did anybody else who was normal, which my sister obviously wasn’t, since that was her favorite ... food. Her head dipped toward my prick, which she was still holding like it was a stick shift and she was in a race for pink slips. She was stroking the gear shift and shifting from first to third and then back to first and then second, if you know what I mean.

She was quiet for a few seconds and I could almost hear the gears in her head whirling.

“I don’t’ know what to do,” she said, to herself I think. Then she looked up at me and proved I was wrong by continuing to talk to me. “I want to rub on it, like before. But I want to see how far it shoots, too. And I think I want to taste it ... you know?”

I was flabbergasted. All three sounded wonderful to me, and I was close to making her second choice come true just then. “I ... uh ... well ... I’m gonna ... Uhhhh ... Auuuggghhhhh.”

Her hand had solved the problem for us. My hips went up and I bit my cheek and spunk shot up in the air two and a half feet. It kind of hung there for a split second and then the line leaned and started back down. She was like a cobra or something. I saw her eyes go wide as she lifted them, and then lowered them again, watching the stream of semen she had just produced, like an artesian well. About the time that line splatted onto my chest her head dove and her mouth opened and she caught number two, or maybe it was number three by then, I don’t really know, but she caught it in her mouth as she sealed her lips over the crown. I know she got another shot in her mouth, and about then she popped back up, like a jack in the box.

She let go of my dick, which lay down on my stomach and fired another round toward my chin. Her hands were up by her shoulders and she was kind of fanning her face, sort of, jumping around and making these strange noises with her mouth closed and her eyes bulging, and it was obvious that she wished she hadn’t done what she’d just done. Her head swiveled both ways, and it was clear that she was looking for a place to spit. I half expected her to spew all over me.

But she suddenly stopped, frozen like - her hands too, just hanging there in the air. She dragged in a noisy breath through her nose and then opened her mouth.

I’d like to say it looked cool. Her mouth was brimming with thick white strings of stuff that stretched from her lower teeth to her upper ones and looked a little like spider webs. About then I expected her not just to spew, but to hurl, and the thought of puke all over the place made me tense and half sit up.

But she closed her mouth and dropped her hands and, in the kind of silence where you really can hear a pin drop ... I heard her swallow. She looked kind of startled, and then she licked her lips and swallowed again and this time, when her lips parted there was nothing there.

“That wasn’t so bad,” she said, wiping her lips with the back of her hand. She still looked surprised. “In fact, that wasn’t bad at all.”

She looked at me, standing there gorgeous and naked, with her hands hanging straight down.

“It was warm.” she commented. “And it tastes ... I don’t know how to describe it, but it’s not bad. “It’s all slippery and it feels funny on my teeth,” she added.

Well, to say I was relieved is the understatement of the year. I had a fleeting thought that maybe Peanut Butter, banana and mayo sandwiches had ruined her taste buds or something, because there was no way any of that stuff was ever going to get in my mouth.