Prologue

I recalled – indeed, had never forgotten – the night four years earlier when my sister, Beth, had become curious about male anatomy and had entered my bedroom in the early hours of a morning to examine mine. She had touched my cock and woken it from its relaxed state, watched it grow to a respectable size for a fourteen year old, and had stepped back to the doorway as we both heard one or other parent getting out of bed and heading for the bathroom. As soon as the coast was clear, Beth had disappeared back to her room, leaving me to beat off for the second time that night.

Beth had been twelve at the time, For the next couple of days, she'd seemed to avoid me, which I found hurtful. I had, after all, wanted her to repeat the incident, but stay around longer, in order to see what happened. I was very conscious of my intact virginity and had a strong desire to get rid of it. Almost any girl would suffice.

But I was aware that there were many people who would view sexual interaction with my sister as at least weird, and at worst criminal – though I did not know if it really was a criminal offence to bonk one's sibling. (That, I had to acknowledge, is what I would really like to do.)

Beth was only just starting to grow curves. In a few months, I figured, she would look very attractive, and since her nocturnal visit, she featured regularly in my beat-off fantasies. I continued to hope that Beth would want to look at my cock again, but didn't go so far as to suggest to her that she'd be welcome to do so. Sisters, I knew, could see signs of weakness in such approaches, and I didn't want to suffer both rejection and weeks of her lording it over me, with threats to tell their parents how perverted I was.

But when a young man is fourteen, he is overloaded with testosterone to the point where discretion is trampled underfoot by valour. Beth was trying out some of their mother's makeup one day during the school holidays when I found her. Both parents were at work. She was sitting at her mother's dressing table, a range of lipsticks, eye shadows and foundation creams in front of her, and three or four bottles of nail polish at the side, waiting their turn in the selection process.

She looked round sharply, her expression turning quickly from one of guilt to annoyance.

'What do you want?'

I came to her side and looked at the stuff on the dressing-table. 'Coo! Ma will have a fit if she finds out you've been nicking her makeup.'

'Well, she's not going to find out, ' Beth said grouchily. 'I put everything away exactly where I found it.'

I tilted my head and arched my brows, a small smile on my face. I didn't have to say anything: I knew females could read minds.

'And if you're thinking of saying anything, I'll just deny it, and you have no proof.'

'Are you absolutely certain of that? Mother doesn't know you better?'

Beth wriggled uncomfortably. 'Of course I am. She thinks I'm still a little girl, without a thought in my head about makeup.'

Chapter 1 »