Chapter 28: ... orgasms

Then Lissa continued, "I know, way back, Jason said we would do simultaneous orgasms. And I said that, this morning, too. But I've been thinking that it would be more interesting, at least for me, to, like, take turns. I mean ... so we can watch each other?" She ended on that funny questioning raised tone teenagers sometimes seem to use when stating something that requires agreement.

Denise and I exchanged shrugs.

"Like I said, you're in the driver's seat, hun," Denise said.

Lissa giggled slightly, showing her self-consciousness for the first time. She turned to me. "Do you remember that part in your 'Tease Club' story with the timer?"

I nodded, my imagination immediately racing. It had been a not-very-well developed scene in that story, where a two of the characters, a man and woman, had been playing around with watching each other masturbate, and had come up with the idea of taking turns with a short time limit, rather than just watching each other without constraints.

So much of that story had been about constraints of various kinds. I thought, briefly, how eerie and funny it was that life was, in this case, imitating art so closely. I was already speculating as to what Lissa would propose. I wasn't far off.

"I think we should do something like that." She found her cellphone again and picked it up and snapped it open.

I looked at her curiously, and she gestured with one of those fluttery, dismissive teenager waves: "There's a stopwatch function," she explained.

Ah, of course. I nodded, and asked quietly, "So how's this going to work?"

Denise and I exchanged glances. I knew the way it worked in the story (which is to say, it hadn't really worked that well, at least as a set-up for an erotic scene). I was wondering how she would choose to implement it. I was hoping she wasn't counting on me to outline it all. But I knew both Lissa and Denise were familiar with the story, and I had tried to make it clear that I agreed with my sister about Lissa being the one in the "driver's seat."

I think that up to that moment, Lissa had been thinking it would be self-evident, but now she realized she was going to need to explain. A flash of exasperation crossed her face (or was it just the frustration that comes with extreme horniness?).

"Well," she began, drawing it out as if she were talking to slow-witted children. "We take turns, and each person has a set amount of time they can do it, and when the time is up, they have to stop."

"So who goes first?" I asked.

"You do," she said, crinkling her nose.

I laughed.

"How long is the time?" asked her mom.

She was quiet, as she considered a moment, and I noticed that her right leg was swaying slightly, the way people do when they are ignoring the fact that they need to pee. But I thought, it likely wasn't because of that. I tried not to stare at the dark tuft of hair between the opening and closing legs. I tried not to notice the quick flash of moist pinkness when the wayward leg swayed out to its widest position. But my sister saw where I was looking. She looked over at the long-suffering, now-and-then twitching cock that I had now become accustomed to being on display. My dear sister grinned wryly.

"Better not make it too long," she added to Lissa.

Lissa looked at her mom, and then quickly followed Denise's gaze to where it was still lingering over my exposed lap. The girl giggled slightly.

"It's weird how in such a short time you get totally used to something like this and you stop even noticing even the craziest stuff." I felt like she was reading my mind. Lissa paused, but she didn't stop looking. Under youngster's attention, my swollen pocket golem gave an additional little leap, like a puppy happy to be noticed.

"Does it, like, hurt?" she asked. Obviously, she was speaking to me.

"No more than yours does, sweetheart," I said in a low, careful voice. And smiled to show I wasn't just trying to tease her.

"So ... is it like really close?"

"What do you mean?" I asked. I was sure I understood what she meant, but something made me want to make her spell it out.

She didn't seem put off by that. "Like, how long would it take to make it orgasm?"

"Well, that would depend how hard I tried," I said, a little bit jokingly.

She opened her mouth in a silent laugh. "Obviously," she droned. "But, like, if you ... if you went at it like wanting to finish?"

I considered. That's not normally a figure a guy is used to trying to come up with. But I finally guessed, "I don't know, probably between one and two minutes. Maybe even less."

"Really?" she actually leaned forward as she said this, as if looking more intently at the apparatus in question could elicit a confirmation. Suddenly a thought visibly traveled from her forehead to her mouth.

"I know!" she announced. "How about, instead of a time limit, we can just have someone say 'stop' if it starts looking, uh ... dangerous?" She looked up to my face, and over to her mom's, evidently pleased with her brainstorm. "That would like, sorta stretch it out ... which exactly like seems to be the point of this whole thing. This whole ... thing." She echoed herself, like someone making sure she'd said what she meant to say, or not believing she'd said what she'd heard herself say.

"So, you mean, we take turns stopping each other?" Denise said. "That could get ugly," she added, but laughing.

Lissa laughed too. "Sure." She snapped her cellphone shut again, having decided no stopwatch was needed.

"Do you still want Jason to go first?" she asked.

Lissa nodded.

"How do we determine who's the person to say 'stop'?"

She shrugged. "We could take turns," she offered. "I think you should watch the first time, mom ... you know more, like, what would be a sign of it was time to make him stop."

Denise chuckled at that. "I've never watched him either, hun," she protested gently.

Lissa took it seriously, and said, "Well, but you've watched ... other guys." Pause. Sudden look of alarm. "Right?"

"Well, that's true," Denise agreed. "So, shall we start? Do you have any other rules or suggestions?"

Lissa meditated for a few seconds. "Um..." She seemed suddenly hesitant, but clearly she had something to add.

"It's OK," Denise and I said in almost perfect unison. We exchanged glances. "Anything you want," my sister added.

"I really liked those 'pose' dares we were doing. I was thinking ... the person in charge -- the 'stop' person -- could set up a pose of the other two people each time before they start doing it ... I mean, before they start masturbating."

Denise looked surprised. "So, you mean that before Jason starts right now, you want me to pose you and him in some way?"

Lissa just nodded for a second. "Well, obviously it would have to be a pose where he could, like reach and ... like ... manipulate ... what he needed to." She giggled slightly.

"You're talking about those 'no touching poses' like what Marie and Frank did at the end?"

She nodded again, slightly embarrassed at making so obvious her erotic impulses.

Denise was thoughtful. "Well, I wouldn't want to be unoriginal. I'll have to think of a good pose for you two. Are you ready?" She directed the last at me. I shrugged, but my naked cock betrayed my high level of interest. She directed a sultry little smirk, cockward, and continued, "I think the exact pose that Marie and Frank were in would be too difficult to hold, with Jason having to masturbate at the same time. But I'd be willing to guess that what Lissa's after is just a nice close up view. Am I right?" Lissa gave a slight, embarrassed nod. Her mother asked, "Do you want a top-down view or a side view or what?"

Lissa grinned self-consciously, but still only shrugged, which left the decision to her mom. Denise finally had me sit on the floor with my back against the couch, with my legs spread but not too widely, making sure I was comfortable. Then she had her daughter simply lie down beside me, at a right angle, so her face, propped on a hand with her elbow on the floor, was within inches of my excited (and hopefully, exciting, for her) groin.

What was new, of course, compared to earlier bits of close looking and teasing, was that I was going to be masturbating "with intent to cum," as my sister had ended up phrasing it, as we had a few more exchanges while we got into position.

With that, then ... it was started. I began with some gentle, self-teasing strokes, but Denise quickly became impatient, and said, "Based on what Lissa has described, I think the point here is that you should be trying hard to cum -- it's my job to make sure you stop before you get there. Hopefully I'll manage." She sat close on the other side of my lap from where Lissa was, but not so up close, so she could watch my face and body language too.

So I started my standard "race to the finish" hand job for myself: right hand wrapped around the shaft, with the pinky finger dug into base more or less, index and forefinger in a three-quarter circle like a hook, riding up over the wide flange of my glans and back down again, in a rapid staccato; and on every third or fourth stroke, I would pause at the top of my stroke to allow my thumb to sweep across the tip of my cock, capturing the slippery precum that was flowing.

Of course, with Lissa staring raptly with her seemingly unblinking gorgeous brown eyes, and after such a long, long time at being edged and teased, it was a remarkably short time before I felt the oncoming conclusion, like a landing jetliner passing directly overhead. It was really no more than 40 or 50 seconds, I would guess, when Denise uttered a firm but throaty "stop now."

I pulled my hand away with huge reluctance and just sat, breathing hard. The cock was throbbing, leaping a little, and the head was shiny with a yummy clear coating of copious precum. Lissa was leaning so close she could probably smell it; I swear I could feel her hot breath. She looked up at her mom for a short moment, "Was it gonna shoot?"

Denise laughed and pointed her chin toward me, as if to say, "ask him."

So she looked up at my face, and said, "Was it close?"

"Oh, definitely," I sighed.

"Cool," she whispered. "So, uh ... who's next?"

"Either you or me," said Denise. "You choose."

"Um, you, I guess," Lissa ventured, after a short pause.

"Who's going to be the one to tell me to stop?"

Lissa giggled. "I was gonna say it should be Jason watching, but that would mean you and me in a pose ... I didn't think of that, before."

"I don't mind, either way," Denise said, encouragingly.

Lissa was indecisive, but at last, seeing that it was being left up to her, she said, "well, I don't think I would be very good at knowing when to say when you should stop. So ... whatever." She turned toward me, "Um ... how would you pose us?"

I had been wondering that, myself, and so I said what I'd been thinking. "How would you feel getting a chance to watch up close, just like me?"

Lissa shrugged, but I thought I could detect that she was "interested" in the idea. Of course -- curiosity and all that.

So I told Denise to get comfortable however she preferred, the only constraint being that she kept her legs fairly widely spread. She settled back on the couch in the corner, on knee up against the back, the other sprawled wide with foot on the floor. Then I had Lissa kneel on the floor in front, resting her chin on the edge of the couch, her nose maybe 8 or so inches from her mom's garishly displayed pussy.

I then knelt down next to my niece, on the other side of Denise's knee, to best supervise the proceedings. I could see that Denise was very aroused and excited by what was about to happen, but she surprised me when she suddenly said, "Wait!" and sat forward.

I thought something was wrong. Seeing my look of alarm, and Lissa crouching backwards, she grinned, "Sorry. I just had a certain idea, is all."

We relaxed, and waited for her to explain, but instead she just gestured for us to move back, and leaped up and ran from the room. Lissa and I exchanged looks of "what the hell?" and then both kind of laughed.

Denise was only gone for about a minute. When she returned, it was immediately evident what had occurred to her: she was holding the infamous, large, pink, lifelike dildo. Lissa's eyes widened a bit, but she was grinning.

We resumed our positions, and without any prompting, Denise settled back and, with her left forefinger very lightly teasing at her clit, she used her right hand to grasp the dildo mid shaft and began sliding the tip of it up and down her slippery cunt lips. Within only a few seconds, she was working it in. "Oh crap," she moaned.

I probably shouldn't have been surprised at how close she was, after all the had happened, and knowing her sexual predilictions as well as I'd come to know them over the last months. She suddenly rammed it home and began pumping. Hard. I nearly said nothing, I wanted to watch her explosion so much. But finally realizing the situation, I said, "Stop." It had been, at most, 20 seconds.

But she didn't stop. Lissa glanced away from the pink object her mom was jackhammering into her pussy toward my face for just a second, and then, making this really peculiar grimace, she reached out and firmly stopped her mom's right hand, and pulled the dildo out with a soft slurping sound. It glistened. I wrapped a hand around Denise's forearm on her other side, as her finger still hadn't stopped working her clit.

"Oh, god, why!?" she hissed, and rolled her eyes. But she took a few gulps of air, and then smiled wanly. "This is fucked up," she finally muttered. Somehow, despite everything that had been going on, this little phrase seemed to scandalize her daughter slightly. All three of us just burst out laughing for a short time.

With the tension released, it was now Lissa's turn. My inexperienced niece was clearly a bit nervous, but also obviously horny as hell.

It seemed a foregone decision to all of us that Denise would be watching her to give her the signal stop, and therefore that Lissa and I would be posed in some way. Lissa looked at the dildo for a moment, but decided she wasn't going to do that. "At least, not ... yet," she explained.

But Denise surprised me a bit with the way she decided to pose us. I would say that while the previous poses had been about visually stimulating for one or both of the participants, with close-up views and all that, this pose was more what you might call "situationally stimulating." And it was unexpectedly intense and perverse.