Chapter 8: Unexpected

-- NOVEMBER 2005, THANKSGIVING BREAK --

I felt something tickle my balls, and with a start, I jerked awake.

"Mmph!" somebody groaned, and as I sat up, I realized I'd just shoved my dick an inch into a girl's throat. She took it like a trouper, gagging only slightly and keeping her head down, breathing heavily through her nose until I pulled back. And then she resumed rhythmically pumping my shaft in her hands and sucking on the mushroom head as if I'd never interrupted her.

Now as you know, this sort of thing has happened to me a time or two. So I wasn't particularly shocked, even if I wasn't expecting to wake up at this time in quite this manner. Perhaps I should have expected it though. After all, there were four different women under this roof who could all accomplish the same feat.

Well, five, if you count Deanna.

My dick lurched, but I squeezed my eyelids shut and tried not to think too hard about that one.

I was still quite tired. Being the one real cock for Dayna, Brandi, DJ, and Brooke had been quite the workout, and while getting dosed with Viagra may have assisted my erectile function last night, it wasn't helping me now. I hadn't been kidding about that Pamplona bull thing, and my balls were still sore from such extreme use. Despite the pleasure coming from the warm, wet mouth surrounding my shaft, I really wouldn't mind drifting off back to sleep.

I knew that wasn't actually going to happen, but I was content to remain motionless for now and let my mystery fellatrix do her thing. Sighing dreamily, I extended my arms above my head, until my hands were resting against the headboard. And I let my idle mind wonder about the identity of this morning's alarm clock.

It really didn't take long to figure out. I could immediately cross Brooke and DJ off the list, since their blowjobs were as familiar to me as the back of my hand. Not that I've actually memorized the back of my hand, but if put into a photographic lineup with other hands from other people, I'm pretty sure I'd be able to figure out which was mine rather easily. So it was with my blowjob artiste. There wasn't anything specific about her technique that informed her identity, but by process of elimination I was able to deduce that my older sister had come to pick up where she'd left off last night.

"Ohhh, Brandi..." I moaned as she hit a particularly nice spot. My hips rolled forward to cram an extra half-inch into her throat and my arm dropped so I could hold the back of her head and keep her down on me for just a second longer. But then I let her head go and slowly picked my head up, finally cracking open my crusted eyelids and verifying visually that indeed, it was my older sister looking back at me with a smile around nearly eight inches of cock imbedded in her esophagus.

Her nostrils flared as she struggled to breathe, and then she pulled back and popped off with a wide grin. I glanced to my left to find DJ still asleep, and we tried not to bother her as Brandi kissed her way up my still-naked body, straddled my hips, and then guided my prick into her buttery box.

I was still tired and sore, and my prick was a little sensitive. But this was Brandi, and I didn't know when I'd be able to do this again. So despite the aches I went along with it. I raised my hands once again, working on autopilot to caress and tweak and stimulate my sister for her maximum pleasure while she rocked and undulated atop me. And I was rewarded by her moans of contentment and cute little whimpers, obviously enjoying herself and just as obviously not caring one whit that we're siblings and not supposed to be doing this, at least for now.

Although we were making some effort not to wake DJ, the gentle rolling of the bed eventually roused my girlfriend, who cracked open her eyes, smiled sleepily at us, and reached a hand out to caress Brandi's well-toned thigh.

"What time is it?" DJ asked softly, her eyes closing once more.

Brandi whipped her baggy T-shirt over her head, non-verbally inviting me to play with her breasts, and replied, "It's almost 10am. We've slept in."

DJ nodded sleepily before suddenly jerking upright, her eyes open wide. "Almost 10? Weren't we supposed to go Black Friday shopping this morning?!?"

Still fucking me, Brandi panted and gave her a nod. "Your parents are already gone. But it's not the end of the world. Tell the truth, I'd rather be Right. Here." She humped herself down rather deliberately and rather hard with those last two words, almost knocking the wind out of me but getting my cock particularly deep as well.

"Yeah, but I wanted to get some shopping in!" DJ complained, rolling out of bed and scampering naked over to her dresser to climb into some underwear. "Doorbusters will all be gone and a lot of the other deals end at noon!"

"We. Still. Got. Time," Brandi chanted while rising and falling on me with increased force. "Fuck. Me. Big. Brother. Fuck. Me!"

I was fucking her now, awake enough to grasp her hips and yank her down to meet my upward thrusts. I didn't care a lick about Black Friday, but I certainly cared about Brandi's and my next orgasms. Overcome with the pleasure, my sister dropped her chest down onto mine, burying her face in the pillow and moaning while I began jackhammering myself into her from below. My hands glided down her perfect buttcheeks, gripping them for leverage. And very quickly, I brought my big sister off to a noisy climax.

Brandi went limp after that, which wasn't really helpful for my own impending eruption. Trapping her legs with my own, I rolled us over to the side of the bed DJ had just vacated, and without dislodging my prick I flung my sister's legs over my shoulders and started piledriving her into the mattress. Brandi's head tossed left and right while I fucked the shit out of her, concentrating on getting my own. But despite my lack of focus on her, she was getting into it just fine, screaming out, "Fuck me! Fuck me! Sperm me, little brother! Fucking CUM inside me!"

Three strokes later, I did just that, and the internal sensation of my hot jizz splattering against her insides set Brandi off to another orgasm. We thrashed and bucked on the bed, our bodies quaking out our climaxes, until finally I collapsed into a lump of dead weight on top of her, mingled jism oozing out from around the not-quite-watertight seal of my dick in my sister's cunt.

Last night, nobody came after the creampie. But this morning, the instant I rolled off my sister, DJ pulled Brandi's hips around and spread her legs so she could kneel and slurp out her boyfriend's spending. She was fully-dressed, in spray-painted jeans with a tight polo and Argyle vest that showed off her assets, so it was an interesting contrast to see clothed blonde DJ climb up naked brunette Brandi's body and extend a tongue downward to feed her brother's sperm to the hungry older girl.

The sight was pleasant enough that I almost dragged DJ's jeans off and porked her from behind.

Almost.

But I didn't. I needed the rest, and my girlfriend wanted to shop. I lay back and recovered while DJ finished up and then skipped off to the bathroom to fix her hair and makeup. And after scooping up brother-cum that had leaked onto her cheeks during the snowball with DJ, Brandi popped her fingers into her mouth while grinning at me, stood up, and then sashayed out the door back to Dayna's room.

Girlish giggles and erotic moans returned back through the open doors, and curious, I got up and padded down the hallway after her. Peeking inside Dayna's bedroom, I found the eldest Evans girl wearing a strap-on and pounding Brooke doggy-style while buzzing a thin vibrator in and out of my little sister's ass.

Just another day in my life, right?

Wanting to show off my new Project Ben culinary skills for Brandi and Dayna, I jumped into my pajama pants and then hustled downstairs to start breakfast. It was a good thing too, since the girls really DID want to get to those Black Friday deals before noon. Unfortunately, they were in too much of a hurry to really savor the flavors I'd worked hard to put into the french toast, but I did get a peck on the cheek from each of them before they all piled into Dayna's car and drove off to the mall without me.

This was the plan, of course. The LAST place I wanted to be was a busy mall on Black Friday. I was under strict orders to rest and recuperate, because the girls weren't done fucking me yet. And the way the next three days were looking, I would need all the rest I could get.

The holiday weekend was a wild one, filled with sex in all kinds of permutations and combinations. There were threesomes, foursomes, and even a fivesome (which is a lot more logistically-complicated than erotic, really). Dayna and DJ replicated the four-boobs-around-one-dick titfuck that Dayna and Amber had introduced to me, although there apparently IS such thing as too much boobage to quite fit into a confined area. And I spent the better part of the holiday weekend tired, exhausted, and dehydrated, except for whenever the fucking got underway. Then, my sexual reserves activated or something and I was magically transformed into Big Ben, Sex God.

This is not a bad thing. The logistical complications of four women trying to fuck you at the same time and suffering from Too Much Boobage™ are problems other men would kill for. And as it was all happening to me, I decided that they were problems I could live with.

Brandi continued her weekend that 'didn't count', fucking or sucking me every chance we got. I learned that it was indeed her ass I'd pounded while blindfolded last night, and she wanted me to do it again. I obliged, moaning about how perfect my sister's ass was while she reminded me that I was still the only man she'd ever let up her backdoor.

I also got up Dayna's tailpipe immediately after. I still hadn't forgotten my very first assfuck, at camp so many years ago. And even though I'd attributed to that memory such perfection as to be impossible to live up to, well, doing it again pretty much lived up to the memory.

The elder sisters also continued their explorations with the opposite little sisters. I lost count of the number of times Dayna fucked Brooke with a strap-on and vice versa. And whenever my girlfriend was out of my sight, she was invariably in a room with Brandi, munching rug and making out. Both pairings spent more time with each other than DJ spent with me, but I didn't mind. DJ and I would have plenty of time together once we returned to school. Being in this house with Dayna and Brandi was a special occasion, and we all wanted to make the most of it.

Although I did leave the house on Friday afternoon to do a little shopping of my own, just a run to Target to stock up on cheap DVDs, we collectively stayed holed up and having sex for most of the weekend. I had carte blanche to seize any girl and stick it into any hole any time I had an erection, and I pretty much did just that. Sometimes that meant grabbing a girl, bending her over, and dragging her into a bedroom. Sometimes that meant a girl grabbing ME and dragging me into a bedroom (Brandi, most often). But as Friday turned into Saturday and Saturday turned into Sunday, we started to get lazy about keeping things private, and I started just porking the girls wherever I happened to come across them, whether it be the hallway, the stairway, or even the kitchen.

Those out of doors activities were at least restricted to periods when the parentals were out of the house or in their bedroom late at night. But even when Jack and Deanna WERE around, the girls were getting careless about keeping our activities concealed.

There was the time DJ started jacking my cock under the table during Saturday's lunch, which Deanna eventually figured out and had to shoot DJ a glance to knock it off.

And there was the time I was fucking Brandi on the couch while DJ and Brooke sixty-nined on the floor beside us and the front door opened. We all scrambled to get covered up by the time Jack and Deanna walked in, but probably weren't 100% successful. Both parents got an eyeful, I'm sure, before they turned back the way they came and gave us a couple of minutes to fix our clothing. It wasn't that they didn't know what was going on, but we were pretty sure they didn't want it thrown in their faces.

At least, I was pretty sure, and so was DJ. Brooke was a little more blasé about it. "What? I don't mind if your Dad catches me naked. He's kinda hot for an old guy."

"What? Ew!" DJ spat.

"'Ew', really?" Dayna. "You mean you've never thought about it? Boinking Dad?"

"What? No!" DJ was scandalized. "Why, have you?"

Dayna shrugged. "Sometimes. And don't tell me you haven't checked out my mom's rack from time to time, Ben."

I blushed. Deanna Evans was just as well-endowed as her daughters, and when puppies that big and firm are put on display, it sort of doesn't matter whose body they're attached to. I agreed, but only to a point. "Fine, but there's a difference between checking out a pair of boobs and thinking about banging your Mom. There's something about it that just isn't ... right."

"THANK you!" DJ exclaimed before staring down her sister. "They're our parents!"

"And we're your sisters," Dayna argued. "Lines have already been crossed."

"No, thank you." DJ immediately replied with her hands making short, horizontal chopping motions apart, and Brandi nodded her agreement after a moment's thought.

But that night, while the entire family gathered to watch a movie together, Dayna came downstairs after her shower wearing nothing but a bathrobe and wasn't too careful about closing the front all the way. I knew my eyes kept drifting over to her as she curled in an armchair and watched the movie, idly running her fingers along the bathrobe's trim just over her breasts, as if she would pull it open at any moment. And if my eyes kept drifting over, well ... I studied Jack Evans for a little bit, and yep, sure enough HIS eyes kept drifting over. But that was as far as it got before Deanna told her daughter to either put on some real pajamas or put on some underwear beneath the bathrobe.

She came back braless and wearing a cropped PJ top that may have fit her when she was fourteen. Now, it was about two sizes too small, molding rather skintight around the shape of her 36DDs, and the matching boyshorts weren't any looser. Deanna sighed, waited for the movie to end, and then dragged her husband upstairs. Loud grunting and rhythmic headboard-banging soon emanated from behind the closed door, and Dayna asked us to take bets on whether or not her dad was fantasizing about fucking HER.

Nobody took the bet.

But all good things must come to an end. Sunday arrived, and it would soon be time for all us kids to go home. But we didn't leave without a bang (literally). And when Deanna sensed what was about to happen, she took her husband out of the house lest the young women of the house completely lose their inhibitions in front of him.

We said our goodbyes, since the Evanses were going off to visit friends and wouldn't return until after we'd left for our homes in San Francisco and Berkeley. Brandi, Brooke, and I thanked them for their hospitality, and then we all waved from the front door as they turned and drove up the street.

The girls closed the front door. They turned to me.

And then they pounced.

-- NOVEMBER 2005, SENIOR YEAR --

"Hey there, stranger," Bert greeted me with a fist bump as we met up at our usual intersection, and then fell into step alongside me as we trudged up the hill. "How was your weekend?"

I groaned and shook my head. "You don't wanna know."

Bert nodded and then glanced back, finding that his usual walking pace had already put him several feet in front of me. "You okay? You're movin' kinda slow."

"Feel like my balls got kicked by a bull."

"Not that you actually got kicked by a bull or anything."

"No."

"More like: your testicles were severely overworked through extreme sexual demand the likes of which would explode my puny little mind."

"Yes."

"Fair enough. I won't ask, except for one question Lynne and I have been wondering about ever since you left after the Pre-Thanksgiving party."

"What's that?"

"Did you or did you not hook up with Sasha?"

I stopped in my tracks, my grimacing face giving the answer away already.

"Thought so," Bert commented before clarifying, "Well, Lynne thought so. Honestly, I was so blitzed I don't remember the circumstances of your departure. But she said Sasha walked out that door with you looking like she wasn't going to take 'no' for an answer."

"Huh..." I stewed on that, wondering for the umpteenth time how it was so easy for girls to pick up on those vibes and meaningful looks while I was still just a dense, blockhead guy. At least Bert hadn't noticed without Lynne telling him so.

"So what now? Everything goes back to the way it was between you two? Or do I need to find myself a new Xbox partner because you're gonna be spending all your breaks between classes boinking Miss Brunette Bigtits?"

"I'm not gonna..." I began before pausing to think about it. Sasha and I hadn't actually discussed what would happen when we returned to school, and even though our encounter had been more than four days ago, I'd been so occupied since then that I hadn't really had a chance to think about it.

I told Bert that I hadn't figured that out yet, and he gave me a shrug.

"Well, figure it out fast," he warned. "She's gonna meet us for lunch after class, which means you've got about ... an hour."

Unfortunately, the intervening hour before our rendezvous for lunch was occupied by class, and a class I actually needed to pay attention to. So I didn't have much time to dwell on the Sasha issue, which was probably for the best, lest I analyze and overanalyze things for the entire time.

When class ended, I hoisted my bag over a shoulder and got up, ready to leave. But Bert was texting or something on his phone, and I had to whistle to get his attention. "Hey, we eating or what?"

"Uh. You know. Something's come up. I gotta meet up with ... uh ... somebody..." Bert stammered, looking sheepish. "So ... I'll see you later, alright?"

I arched an eyebrow. "Lynne come to campus and text you for a quickie?"

A girl behind me gasped and looked at us, wide-eyed, for a moment before hustling out the door. Bert rolled his eyes as she left before deadpanning, "Yes. That's exactly it."

I looked at him curiously as he finally got up and led the way outside. I followed after, still wondering what he was hiding from me, but I suddenly had no more time to wonder as a vision of beauty stepped around the corner and sashayed in our direction.

You could hear conversations stop all around us as people, both guys and girls, paused to gawk at the gorgeous young woman strutting confidently down the hall. She wore spray-painted jeans tucked into stylishly short black boots with three-inch heels. A brown belt more decorative than functional hung at a slant across her waist and shapely hips. And clinging to her torso was an emerald green blouse made of a satiny fabric that shimmered in the fluorescent overhead lights.

While perhaps baggy jeans and Cal Berkeley hoodies were a little more commonplace, the outfit wasn't so different from what many other girls wore around the campus. Also, she wore a nice knee-length dark brown peacoat over the top as well, so it wasn't like the young lady in question was dressed in a way that was particularly revealing. What was more surprising was WHO was dressed in such a manner, not to mention that several buttons of the green blouse were undone, exposing quite the expanse of milky white cleavage formed by breasts I knew intimately to be very full and firm D-cups.

Sasha Serafian NEVER dressed like this on-campus, and most everybody in Cheit Hall knew it. We'd also never seen her hair pinned in a stylish up-do, showing off the gracefulness of her neck and highlighting her dangly earrings. Expertly-applied makeup accentuated her beauty, not minimized it. And so for the very first time for many of our classmates, one could really see just how beautiful a woman she could be.

The hallway went silent in my immediate vicinity as my project teammate came to a stop right in front of me, smiling to watch my eyes do that yo-yo thing I couldn't help. Ten feet behind her, whispered comments started up as people didn't make much effort to be inconspicuous.

"Hey Ben. What's for lunch today?" she asked sweetly, as if we didn't have a couple dozen people staring right at us.

"Uh, we hadn't decided just yet," I managed to reply after false-starting just once. "Bert?"

Blushing, he waved his phone at me and then jerked a thumb down the hall. "Uh, I'm not coming today. That ... thing ... with ... that person? Remember?"

I sighed and shot him a look. "Bert, spit it out."

Bert turned a little pinker before taking a deep breath. Showing me the phone again, he explained, "It's from Kim. She saw how Sasha was dressed this morning and she told me to get the hell out of the way. You two clearly need to talk. So ... bye!" He shot me a goofy grin, spun on his heel, and practically ran away.

I watched him go, and then with another resigned sigh I swiveled my gaze back to Sasha, waiting patiently and smirking as she noticed just how many people were still gawking at us. "Find someplace a little more private?" I offered. A couple of girls to my left tittered at that.

Sasha grinned and took my arm with both of her hands. "Let's go."

Although I was pretty hungry, this wasn't a conversation I wanted to have anywhere near other people. So instead of taking Sasha to a restaurant or anything, we swung by the deli and picked up food to go before strolling back to my house. We chatted along the way about nothing consequential, mostly me asking how her holidays went and her explaining about staying in on Thanksgiving Day to clean house and organize mail and then going Black Friday shopping before catching a movie with Marisa and some other stripper friends. As usual, she worked all of the weekend evenings, and then it was back to school.

When she asked me about my weekend, I told her I'd spent the entire time at my girlfriend's house, and she didn't ask me anything more about that.

Eventually, we made it to my house and had lunch at the dining table. Still, the conversation topics remained casual, at least until the tail end of the meal when I finally asked, "So what's up with the designer threads? Showing off your Black Friday deals?"

By now the heater had kicked in and Sasha had removed her peacoat. It was hanging on the chair beside her, and she reached over to tap it. "This one was 70% off," she explained. "The rest is stuff I already had in my closet."

"In your closet? I've known you for a while now, and I've never seen you wear those clothes."

She shrugged. "Weekend wear, as opposed to my standard issue Cal hoodie and baggy pants student kit."

"Today's not a weekend."

"Today is my first day seeing you again since you completely rocked my world and lived up to everything I fantasized about for my Big Ben Experience." As she said this, Sasha sat up straight, leaned forward slightly, and stared so intensely right into my eyes that I could have sworn her dark brown eyes were literally smoldering.

I paused mid-chew, feeling that deer-in-the-headlights sensation again. But after a moment, I let myself remember all the things we'd done in her apartment that night, and smiling at the memory, I shrugged and replied, "I had a good time, too."

I was seated at the head of the table, with Sasha in the chair immediately to my right. She reached her hand out and covered mine, rubbing the back of it for a moment before flicking her eyes back up to me. "Did you get a chance to talk to DJ about us?"

"I didn't hide anything from her, if that's what you mean."

She shook her head in the negative. "I meant ... in the morning, I asked you if we were just a one-time thing. You said that was up to your girlfriend."

I pursed my lips and thought about it. All of the discussion about Sasha had taken place Thanksgiving Day, when Brooke and DJ had pulled me into DJ's bedroom to get their "details". I'd given them the cliff notes of our sexual encounter, but we hadn't talked about the future. As far as I understood it, the "Green List" still only included Brooke, Paige, and Kim. And while I'd gotten the distinct impression from DJ that she wouldn't mind me hooking up with Sasha again in the future, I knew that communication would be essential to the survival of our relationship, and the last thing I wanted to do was make an assumption that might turn out to be wrong.

Of course, I could solve that little problem with a phone call. It was DJ's lunch hour too, and although she'd be hanging out with her friends at this time, she would be able to pick up her phone and give me a "go/no go" easily enough.

But although I'd said so on Thursday, it wasn't just up to my girlfriend. There were two other people involved in any decision for me and Sasha to continue a more-than-friends relationship, and those two people were me and her.

Sasha was making her decision clear. I could sometimes be as dense as a rock when it came to female signals, but that wasn't an issue right now. Sasha had dressed to impress, and was holding my hand, breathing heavily, and giving me quite serious bedroom eyes. We were alone in my house, with all the opportunity in the world, and she was quite ready to take advantage of it.

But there was still MY decision to make. And though one might think any guy would readily accept the proposition of great sex with a beautiful, busty brunette, my decision-making process had moved beyond what the penis wants. Getting laid wasn't my problem. Getting laid without dealing with all the headaches of interpersonal relationships? THAT was my goal.

"Sasha..." I began with a sigh. "I don't know if this is such a good idea."

She pouted. "Why not?"

"You ... me ... we're friends, right?"

"But we could be more, couldn't we?"

"More? We've talked before about a relationship between you and me, and that was even before I had a girlfriend."

"I know. And we agreed that it wouldn't be a good idea for you and me to get together. But I don't want a relationship, and as for your girlfriend, I'm not going to try and steal you away from her."

"I'm not worth it?"

"You trying to flatter yourself?" She gave me a crooked grin, to which I shrugged. Shaking her head, she explained, "Honestly, I think you're more trouble than you're worth as boyfriend material."

"Gee, thanks."

"I like you; you know that. I know I could even develop feelings for you. But you've got gorgeous women simply throwing themselves at you all the time, and I'm not going to try and compete with that. I think you're a great, great guy. You're an attentive listener, and I feel deep down in my gut that I can really trust you. That's unique. That's special. But I would never try and tie you down into a relationship; I just don't think it'd be possible. And besides, I can tell how much you care about DJ. I really don't want to mess with that; there's just no WAY I could ever be the 'other woman' that makes a man cheat on his girlfriend. So if she's not okay with you and me doing stuff, then it's not going to happen. But I think she IS okay, and well, that's kind of my point. If -I- were your girlfriend I don't think I could be so free with your sexual activities. For her to allow you that freedom is pretty special, but it's also something I wouldn't be able to give you as easily. So I don't want to make an emotional investment and develop the kind of possessive expectation of fidelity from you that I know would only result in me getting my heart broken."

I shrugged. "That's just it: I don't want to break your heart."

"It won't get broken, because I'm not your girl. And I'm not going to try to be."

"But you still want to have sex with me."

"Are you kidding? Wednesday night was the best experience of my LIFE! Yes! YES I want more!" She hopped up and down in her chair, giggling with a wide grin.

But instead of smiling with her, I took a deep breath.

Sasha immediately stopped bouncing and screwed up her face. "Oh, so that's it? You got to add me as a notch on your bed post and you're done with me?"

"What? No!" I protested, but felt my defensiveness fade at the knowing smirk on Sasha's face.

"I'm just messing with you," she cracked with a grin. "That's the reputation you have: just racking up kills. But I know you, and I don't believe you're that kind of guy ... Or are you? Are you really just gonna fuck me the one time and then never let me have an encore?"