Step By Step - 1 - Amy's Awakening free porn video

“...Sultans of Swing by Dire Straits...”

“Right!” I replied, grinning at Jake’s self satisfied expression.”Let’s see how good you are with this...”

It was a perfect Saturday morning and we were playing ‘Name that Tune’ as my stepbrother Jake drove the two of us northwards through the Yorkshire countryside in our mother’s car on our way to the seaside cottage Mum and Dad had rented for a week’s break.

Dad had a late business commitment so he and Mum were going to join us a day later on the Sunday but with my A level exams over and my stepbrother home from university, Jake and I saw no reason why we should miss out on a day’s holiday which, after all, had already been paid for.

Now eighteen, I had just left school, would be going to University myself in the autumn and was a very excited girl. I had just passed my driving test too, but to be honest had found the long trip north a bit daunting so was content to let my stepbrother drive; after all, he was eighteen months older than me and had that much more driving experience. Of course, I made a big deal about wanting to drive and took my time giving in and letting him do it instead, but it always paid to have him think he ‘owed me one’.

And we had made the right decision! It was a perfect day; a bright yellow sun sat in a clear blue sky and green fields flashed past the windows as we sped through the lush Yorkshire countryside.

“…Heartbreak Hotel, Elvis Presley…”

“Right again, Clever Dick!” I conceded, pulling a face and sticking my tongue out.

“Cheeky…” He grunted and made a grab for my right thigh, hoping to squeeze it painfully as he had done for many years when we had been play-fighting. I was expecting this and moved my bare knees across to the passenger door, making him miss.

“Keep your eyes on the road, Durrbrain!” I chided and laughed out loud when he scowled at me.

We had all been looking forward to this break for a long time. Jake had just finished his second year at University and was about to enter the high-pressure final year, having just scraped through his exams. I had accused him of having wasted his time on ‘too much rugby, too much beer and too many girlfriends’.

While the first two accusations might have been justified, they hadn’t done him any damage if his physique was anything to go by. Tall, slim and athletic, he had clearly spent at least as much time in the gym as he had in the pub, resulting in strong, muscular arms and shoulders. He was only a few cans short of a six-pack too, a fact I couldn’t help notice because he habitually walked around the house bare-chested.

I had jokingly accused him of being a rampant show-off but was secretly proud of my gorgeous stepbrother. Certainly many of my friends had admired him for years and at least two had made strenuous efforts to win his intimate affections – without success according to Jake but I wasn’t quite sure I believed him given the dreamy expressions I had seen on one or two of their faces.

The third accusation was definitely not true but to be honest, after growing up so close, I instinctively felt that any girlfriend was an unwelcome intrusion into our family and therefore every one of them was ‘one too many’. When I was younger I’m ashamed to say I had gone to some lengths to make his girlfriends feel very uncomfortable in our house. I’m not proud of this and had reformed in recent years but was still very possessive of my gorgeous stepbrother.

No, Jake was not a womaniser as far as I knew. He had gone to Uni a single man and since then had only had two real girlfriends, one in each year. It seemed Jake’s relationships never survived his return home for the summer holidays. I had to admit, they had both been very pretty girls, very nice and very blonde both in hair colour and in the full femininity of their bodies. On the few occasions I had met them I had felt very envious of their full breasts and of the softness of their bodies compared with my own bony frame.

I myself was slim to the point of skinny with long dark hair and embarrassingly small boobs with pointy nipples that showed through my shirt unless I wore a bra – which I really only ever needed to do for sport.

There was a lot of sport in my life though. Tall and fit myself, I played school and county standard hockey and netball, and also ran middle distance, aided by my one saving bodily attraction – my legs! These I really was pleased with – very long and toned though I say it myself – and to display them to best effect I usually dressed in ‘pussy pelmet’ skirts which were so short that the very thought of them embarrasses me now.

As usual, I was braless and wearing just such a microscopic denim skirt in the car now. This presented Jake with a large area of skinny thigh to attack which he did a second time, on this occasion successfully gripping my leg high up, close to the hem line.

“Owww!” I wailed, giggling and wriggling as his fingertips dug into my bare skin.

“Now who’s a Durrbrain?” he demanded, squeezing harder until it hurt.

“Ow! Ow! I am! I am! Let me gooooooo!”

A car horn blared behind us and Jake let go of my leg as if it had been red hot, grabbing the steering wheel with both hands.

We both burst out laughing again then sat back in our seats in companionable silence for a while. I turned the radio on and tuned in to Radio One, filling the car with cheap pop music. We drove on for a while in companionable silence.

Jake’s father had married my mother so many years ago that we had both grown up calling them Mum and Dad. Most people thought we were brother and sister; indeed we usually referred to each other as such but the truth was that we both had 'other' parents. Although I still had a ‘real’ father, he lived in Dubai with his new family and apart from presents at Christmas and birthdays, we were hardly in touch.

Jake’s mother had run off with a luxury car salesman when he was only two, leaving his dad a single parent with a difficult life so it had been good for all four of us when a mutual friend brought the two of them together and our new life as a family began.

Things had been difficult at times but Jake and I had been so young that we had few memories of those early years and had grown up as brother and sister; relaxed in each other’s company.

“Are you upset about Cindy?” I asked a few minutes later as a long sad love song on the radio ended.

Cindy had been Jake’s last girlfriend. Blonde and shapely, she had been a year older than Jake and they had split up a week before the end of term. I didn’t know which of them had ended their relationship but although I had liked Cindy, I cared most about my stepbrother.

“A bit,” he replied. “But it wasn’t really serious and she had to move away for her job.”

He sounded a little wistful.

“Were you… very close?” I pressed rather unsubtly.

Jake spotted my meaning.

“Yes we were… ‘Very close’… as you put it, nosey,” he smiled. “But anyway, it was a mutual decision and it leaves me free to enjoy the summer properly, doesn’t it?”

I could tell he was a bit uncomfortable with this line of questioning so didn’t press him further. I wouldn’t have consciously wished the break-up on him but I have to confess I had been pleased to learn that Cindy wouldn’t be on the scene during my last summer holiday before University.

To be honest, my own sexual history was no more exciting. Despite the best efforts of the depressingly small number of boys who had asked me out, I remained a virgin at eighteen. Perhaps I had an unrealistic view of relationships; given all that has happened since, perhaps I still have.

Although I hadn’t expected to ‘save myself’ for my husband as my mother had apparently done, I was determined that my first time in bed with a boy must mean a lot more than a clumsy fumble, a messy penetration and a lot of untrue stories circulating in school afterwards as had happened to so many of my friends.

I wasn’t afraid of sex; I certainly wasn’t a frigid lesbian as one on my more unkind would-be lovers had suggested, I just wanted my first time to be at the right time with the right boy. It was just that the right time and the right boy hadn’t shown up yet.

Half an hour later, we stopped for a Coke and a ‘comfort break’ at a roadside cafe and sat side by side on a fence in the sunshine, sipping our cold drinks. The day was very hot and the car had no air conditioning so we were both a little sweaty. To my relief my short vest top – short enough to leave what I hoped was a tantalising inch or two of tummy visible - didn’t show the sweat as much as Jake’s T shirt. It also showed his strong chest and biceps off to very good effect, something that hadn’t gone unnoticed by two blonde girls who sat on the grass close by looking at him admiringly and at me enviously.

“We’d better get going,” Jake said, crushing his Coke can with one hand in a silly boyish macho gesture which delighted the blondes but which made me giggle.

“Anything you say, Macho Man!” I teased him, slipping my hand through his arm as if I was his girlfriend and watching with delight the disappointment on the blondes’ faces as we passed.

An hour later we rolled down the long, steep hill into our favourite seaside town, the hot lunchtime sun blazing down on semi-dressed girls and boys enjoying the unusually good weather. We parked, collected the key to the cottage from the agent and set off through the crowded streets with our suitcases to find it.

It was a perfect cottage, old but well restored, its three floors nestling between a converted pub and an old town house on one of the ancient narrow streets above the harbour. The inside was modern with three large bedrooms, a comfortable lounge and smart kitchen.

“Wow!” Jake gasped. “Mum knows how to choose them, doesn’t she?”

I grunted my agreement. “Shall we have tea and unpack now or just go out and explore?”

“It’s far too nice to be indoors,” Jake replied. “Let’s hit the streets!”

Five minutes later we had dumped our bags in the cottage and were jostling with the crowds through the narrow streets. Judging by their accents, the perfect weather had brought what seemed like the whole of Yorkshire to the town. It had also encouraged them to leave most of their clothes at home – whether their bodies deserved to be seen or not, I thought maliciously, observing large bellies and tattoos.

I felt almost overdressed in my micro skirt, vest and flip flops!

We spent a happy hour in the town, visiting our favourite shops; jewellery, trinkets, second hand books and of course the traditional sweet shop, reminiscing about family holidays of the past when we were younger and had shared a bedroom. The crowds were so heavy that we had to hold hands to avoid being separated and when we had finally had enough of the town and were climbing the hill to the cliff top I found to my surprise that we were still holding hands.

“Ooops! Sorry!” Jake said, pulling a face and letting go of me. I beamed at him.

“Don’t let me get lost, Big Bro!”

My flip flops were hopelessly unstable on the cliff and Jake had to hold my hand again several times as we picked our way over the uneven ground.

“Girls!” Jake growled as I stumbled against him for a fourth time and he had to catch me in his strong arms. “Why don’t you wear proper shoes?”

I stood in front of him and pouted. “Don’t you like the way I dress?” I stuck my tongue out. “Your friends seem to like it!”

Jake pulled a grimace which was intended to be a joke but I could tell I had hit a nerve.

“Sorry Jake, I didn’t mean...” I started but he pounced on me and began to tickle me right there on the footpath, his hands on my tummy and ribs in the way he knew rendered me helpless. True to form, my knees gave way immediately and I fell to the grassy bank alongside, Jake’s hands following me down, tickling me all the way.

“I’ll teach you!” he growled laughingly as I wriggled and writhed in a futile attempt to escape. “Little Amy thinks my friends fancy her, does she?”

“No! Please...” I gasped, giggling hysterically.

“Thinks she’s hot stuff does she?”

His hands were under my armpits now, my arms flailing.

“No! I’m sorryyyyy! Stopppp!” I pleaded, gasping for breath as his strong hands gripped my upper thigh in a vice like grip. My long legs flailed around his arms as the playful pain hit me.

“Excuse me!” came a loud, pompous voice from above.

Jake released me like a shot and span round. I looked up to see an elderly couple in shorts and walking boots gazing down on us in severe disapproval.

“You’re blocking the pathway,” the grey-haired woman said in a hard voice that could only have come from a retired Head Teacher. “That sort of thing should be done in private. This is a public footpath. We don’t want to have to watch your sexual shenanigans!”

They walked straight past us as we lay there stunned, the man looking over his shoulder in a way that suggested that he would have much preferred watching us to walking with the dragon-lady. Jake offered me his hand, his eyes still staring after the odd couple.

“Sexual shenanigans,” he said as he pulled me to my feet without looking at me. “Jesus! All I was doing was...” He turned to face me. “Ah, ok! Now I see!”

Behind his back I was desperately trying to make myself look decent. Under Jake’s relentless tickling and my frantic attempts to escape, my tiny skirt had ridden up around my waist, clearly exposing my white knickers to the gaze of any passers-by. My top had slipped off my left shoulder too, exposing my braless left boob. To our elderly spectators it must have looked like an X rated movie scene.

I hurriedly pulled my skirt down over my bottom and my top up over my boobs. To my horror, my nipples were erect, a fact that showed clearly through the tight material of my vest.

“Jake! Don’t stare!” I snapped as I wriggled the wedgie out from between my buttocks and tried to get comfortable.

“Sorry,” he said, looking shame faced as I finished my awkward realignment of garments. “I think I need an ice cream to recover. What do you think?”

I grinned, relieved. “If that’s what’s on offer, count me in!”

I took his hand properly this time.

“Sexual...” he said.

“...Shenanigans,” I added.

We burst out laughing as he led me back down the cliff path and into the town. Half an hour later we were walking along the pier, ice cream cones in hand, still chuckling about our embarrassment.

“He didn’t look as if he’d had shenanigans of any kind for a long time,” Jake joked.

“He was certainly staring at us,” I agreed.

“Staring at you, you mean,” he corrected me.

I blushed. “Do you think he saw anything?”

“Well it was definitely all on display,” he teased. “And very nice it was too!”

“Jake!” I stopped dead, horrified.

“Don’t worry Amy,” he said in a reassuring voice, swallowing the end of his ice cream. “He’s probably not seen hers for so long he’s forgotten what it’s for! Fancy a paddle?”

Grinning, I slipped my arm through his and we walked down the slipway to the long beach. I fed him the end of my cone on the way.

It was very crowded on the sand but the sea was cold and few people were actually swimming so there was plenty of room by the waterline. We took off our shoes and paddled by the water’s edge; I felt the cool water on my hot dry legs and between my toes. It was wonderful. Walking beside me, Jake was attracting the attention of several bikini clad girls who had clearly been sunbathing for too long if their pink skin was anything to go by.

He appeared not to have noticed them but looking down at my flat chest, I envied their full breasts and womanly shape and resented the way they looked at him. A minute later I realised I had taken his hand in mine again and we were walking with our fingers intertwined. Jake appeared not to have noticed that either but from time to time he squeezed my fingers affectionately.

We walked hand in hand until it grew late and the beach began to clear.

“Feeling hungry?” he asked. “We never did have lunch.”

“I’m ravenous,” I confessed. “Fish and chips?”

“Nah!” Jake replied. “A perfect day needs a perfect evening. How about we have dinner in Mum and Dad’s favourite restaurant?”

“Can we afford it?” I asked.

“Don’t worry. It’ll be fine. Let’s go and get changed.”

We returned to the cottage, still hand in hand until we reached the stone steps. Jake opened the door and we went to our separate rooms. I messed around hanging up my clothes and choosing the right outfit for the evening while Jake showered and shaved. I could hear him singing in the shower and giggled.

My turn in the bathroom was much longer, involving a shaving of my legs and armpits while the bath filled with hot water. As I prepared to step into the water there was a knock on the door.

“Don’t come in,” I called. “I’m not decent!”

“Okay,” came the reply. “There was a bottle of white wine in the fridge. I’ve poured us both a glass.”

“Just a minute!” I called, wrapping a short towel around me that barely covered my body before opening the door.

Jake stood on the small landing with a large wine glass in his hand. He looked simply gorgeous in a tight white Polo shirt that showed off his gym-toned upper body and dark trousers that highlighted his firm buttocks. It wasn’t hard to see why the girls on the beach had been so simpering.

“Thanks Jake,” I said, taking the glass and closing the door quickly. “I’m not nearly ready though.”

“Take your time. I’ve booked us a table for eight-thirty.”

It was nearly forty-five minutes and a second glass of wine later that I joined Jake downstairs, tottering slightly on my heels, unsure whether my unsteadiness was a result of their unfamiliar height or the less unfamiliar wine I had drunk.

“Wow! Amy!”

Jake dropped the car magazine he was reading and sprang to his feet as I nervously entered the lounge glowing with pleasure at his response. Having seen how good my stepbrother looked, I had taken great care not to let him down and was wearing my sleekest, tightest, shortest black cocktail dress and black heels, with thong panties to avoid the dreaded Visible Panty Line. It was too hot and humid for tights or stockings and as usual I had dispensed with a bra.

The longest delay had been caused by me straightening my somewhat unruly dark hair too and I was wearing Mum’s gold-coloured necklace, bracelet and earrings that I had sneaked from her room earlier in the week.

I felt and looked as good as a skinny, flat chested girl could in the circumstances.

“Um... Wow! Um…” Jake seemed lost for words. “We’d… we’d better get going…” he said, looking at his watch.

We walked the short distance through the town to the restaurant, my arm through Jake’s as much for self preservation in my wobbly heels as for affection, but it was good to have such a strong, attractive escort. This time it was my turn to attract the attention of the locals and visitors – not something I was at all used to – and I clung to my stepbrother’s arm tightly when the odd and distinctly unfamiliar wolf whistles sounded nearby.

Dinner was simply perfect. Obviously mistaking us for a romantic couple, the staff had placed us in a quiet booth away from the main noise of the dining room and, over yet another glass of white wine, we ordered our food. I truly can’t remember now what we ate, being so caught up in the animated conversation that took place between us.

We talked of our perfect day, of Mum and Dad, of our many Grandparents, of friends, schools and of course Universities. Jake told me what expect in my first term – with perhaps more than the usual sibling warnings about predatory boys – and made me feel excited, interested and special. His eyes focussed solely on mine even when a beautiful, full chested blonde in a skin tight dress sat with her much older partner across the aisle from us.

By the time our coffees came we had run the full gamut of conversation. I had drunk a fourth glass of wine and, apart from being a bit tipsy, was glowing from my stepbrother’s undivided attention; very much aware of having had one of the best, most enjoyable evenings of my life.

Jake paid the bill – I never did find out how he afforded it – and we walked unsteadily hand in hand into the cooling night air towards the pier and out over the crashing waves. I shivered as the evening chill found its way in and around my minimal clothing and became horrifyingly aware that my nipples had hardened and were pressing against the front of my dress.

I thanked God for the darkness which I hoped would conceal my embarrassment, made worse by the chafing of the dress’ lining against my teats.

“Are you cold?” Jake asked, linking his fingers with mine.

“Mmmm,” I replied, my shivering body adding emphasis.

“I’ll warm you up a bit then we’ll go home, OK?”

He drew me against his taut body and hugged me tightly. His warmth began to do its work and I rested my head against his muscular chest. He smelled weakly of after shave but strongly of Jake, the familiar reassuring smell of security I had known most of my life. His hands rubbed my back, warming me and I rubbed his sides in response as the waves crashed beneath us. I felt wonderful, comforting, secure.

“Come on, it’s late. Let’s get you home and warm,” Jake eventually said.

Reluctantly stepping out of our embrace, I took his hand once again and let him lead me back along the pier, up the old stone steps and along the street to our cottage. The night was cooling quickly and I was shivering again by the time he opened the front door and ushered me into the hallway then the kitchen.

“We forgot to turn on the heating,” he said, annoyed. “I didn’t realise it would be so cold. How about a hot drink to warm us up?”

“Sure,” I nodded, still shivering under my thin clothes.

Jake put on the kettle then turned to me again.

“Come here, Little Amy!”

I moved unsteadily towards my gorgeous stepbrother and once again he enfolded my shivering body in his, rubbing my bare arms and back vigorously to warm me up. It began to work; I began to relax against his strong frame.

The kettle began to hiss behind Jake as my shivering slowed but for some reason he didn’t release me. Instead, his hands returned to my back where I felt him begin to stroke rather than rub me, first between my shoulders then down my lower back.

It felt nice; warm and reassuring though I knew I was tired and a bit drunk and needed to go to bed soon.

Four glasses of wine was a lot for me so I barely noticed as his stroking hands strayed downwards onto my buttocks and began to caress them through my dress. I rested my head on his shoulder, my arms around his slim waist as I felt his fingers straying downwards to the backs of my thighs where they gently stroked my bare skinny legs.

A moment later I felt the hem of my dress being slowly raised. I was too confused and tipsy to react then suddenly I felt large, strong hands on the bare skin of my exposed buttocks. Again, although I knew something wasn’t right, something deep within me prevented me from reacting the way I should.

My thong panties offered no protection; soon those strong hands were gently kneading and caressing my exposed cheeks. It felt so wrong but so, so nice. Then a long finger was being drawn slowly along the cleft between my buttocks and down between my thighs from behind.

I raised my head to Jake’s in puzzled, silent question but before I could react his lips were on mine, kissing me. I should have been stunned, I should have reacted immediately but either through alcohol, amazement or the totally unexpected arousal that was overtaking me I simply opened my mouth and yielded.

Within seconds his tongue was between my lips and in my mouth, seeking mine and finding it. Our mouths opened wider, our teeth clashed awkwardly and I became aware of his finger sliding deeper and deeper between my legs, following the thong down between my buttocks and getting closer and closer to the base of my slit.

It found it! Jake’s fingertip slipped under the cloth of the thong, slid deep between my thighs from behind and parted my outer lips...

“No!” I suddenly exclaimed, pushing him away from me violently. “Stop it! Jake! What are you doing?”

“Amy!” he stammered. “I… um… I thought you… I just… Oh Christ, what have I done?”

“I’m almost your sister for God’s sake,” I yelled. “And you’re trying to get into my knickers! How could you?”

I shoved him away and half ran, still in my ridiculous heels, up the stairs, hearing Jake’s voice behind me pleading.

“Please Amy. Please don’t… Let’s talk this through… Please…”

But I slammed and locked the door and hurled myself on the bed in tears.

*

The next hour was one of the worst of my life. I felt confused, hurt, guilty, aroused and ashamed all at the same time.

One minute I hated Jake, the next I loved him madly.

One minute I never wanted to see his face again, the next I wanted to shower it with kisses.

One minute I wanted to break his fingers, the next I wanted his hands between my thighs again.

One minute it was all Jake’s fault, the next it was me that had led him on.

Removing my make-up took little time since my tears had washed most of it away and our kissing had smudged or removed the rest. I washed my face, donned my short cotton night dress then lay in bed with the light on, staring at the ceiling.

My own brother - stepbrother; my mother’s husband’s son had kissed me and, whatever I had yelled at him, the honest truth was that I had kissed him back.

My own stepbrother had tried to finger my most private places in what could only be described as a betrayal of trust. But it hadn’t felt like a betrayal; when Jake had touched my most private place it hadn’t felt like it had when my lamentably few boyfriends had tried.

Even in the far fewer cases where my boyfriends had succeeded in touching me ‘down there’ I hadn’t felt like I had felt when Jake had touched me.

No, tonight it had felt like a natural progression; something that the whole evening – maybe the whole perfect day had been building up to.

It had felt… weirdly right… dare I even think the word perfect?

Certainly my body had wanted it as my damp knickers plainly showed. That part of me had been more than happy to let my stepbrother touch me…

Maybe the biggest betrayal of all had come from within me.

I turned the light off and tried to sleep but it was hopeless. All I could think of was Jake. The day had been just perfect right up until that point; really I couldn’t remember another day in which I had been so happy, so free, so… in… love?

In love with my stepbrother? That was stupid, perverted, sick even.

A little drunken kissing and groping was one thing but love?

I tossed and turned for what seemed like an hour before realising that there was only one course of action I could take. I peeled back the duvet and padded barefoot across the landing to Jake’s bedroom door.

I knocked.

“Come in!” his voice sounded unsure, anxious.

I took a deep breath and, turning the handle with a trembling hand, silently slipped into his room. Jake was sitting in bed in his boxer shorts, the low bedside light still on. He looked gorgeous but terribly upset.

“Amy I…” he began but I cut him off sharply.

“Why did you do it?” I asked straight out, standing just inside the doorway as if something inside me was afraid to go further into his room.

“I…” Jake said haltingly, sitting bolt upright in bed. “I thought you were asleep.”

“I can’t sleep,” I stated as he threw back the duvet and began to rise from his bed. “How could I just go to sleep after you... No, don’t touch me, Jake!”

I wrapped my arms defensively, tightly round my chest and lowered my face as he came closer, apparently intending to hug me.

“Okay, I understand,” he said, coming to a halt a few feet away from my trembling body. “I won’t touch you, I promise.”

There was an emotion-charged pause.

“Why, Jake? Why did you kiss me and grope me? I need to know!”

He turned as if too ashamed to look me in the face.

“I don’t know, Amy. I’ve been lying there asking myself the same question over and over again.” He began to pace up and down the room anxiously, his eyes on the carpet as he protested. “I mean it had just been such a perfect day, hadn’t it? We’d had such fun! Like being kids again. It wasn’t planned, I promise. We’d just done such lovely things and got so close and you looked so beautiful and it was sunset and I suppose we were both a bit drunk and I realised how much...”

He paused as if unable to continue then raised his head to look at me. I couldn’t bring myself to look him in the eye.

“I realised how much I love you. And that I probably always have. Once I realised that, there was only one thing I could do... so I did it.”

He paused.

“I’m really, really sorry Amy. I’ve ruined everything now, haven’t I?”

The silence that followed seemed to last half my life.

“You... you love me?” I asked, trying hard to understand.

“I’ve been lying there thinking about it ever since.”

“But I’m your sister,” I said, finally forcing myself to look into his eyes.

“Step sister,” he said firmly. “And you’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever known.”

A look of pain, emotion and, yes, perhaps even real love passed over his face. My mind was in utter turmoil. Every sane thought told me that what Jake had done was outrageous, terrible, possibly even illegal and yet…

I will never know why I said what I said next but it was to change both our lives forever. Taking a deep breath and unable to look my gorgeous stepbrother in the eye, I asked him the question at the front of my mind.

“Would you... Would you like to… to kiss me... again?”

There! I’d said it. A look of stunned surprise passed over his handsome face and if I’m honest, mine too. Where had those words come from?

“Amy!” he exclaimed as if unable to believe his ears. “Kiss you again? You really mean it? You really want me to?”

“Y... Yes....” I nodded, my tummy alive with butterflies.

“Really?”

I nodded again. “If… only if you want to…”

“If I want to?”

Jake sighed, crossing the room and putting his strong hands on my upper arms. I raised my tear-stained face to his.

“I’m sorry Amy,” he said, lowering his face to mine. “I would never, ever hurt you; you have to believe that.”

And then our lips touched for the second time that evening. I tensed as his hot flesh touched mine and he kissed me softly on my closed mouth. Once, twice, three times. My body tensed automatically with each wonderful touch.

“You’re not sure, are you?” he whispered. “If you’ve changed your mind...”

But I cut him short as this time I raised my mouth to his, returning his kiss but with more passion.

This was right! This was what I wanted.

I pressed my mouth firmly against his and after a moment’s shock at my own behaviour, felt his tongue tentatively part my lips and, finding little resistance, enter my mouth.

Any remaining resistance in me simply melted as my wonderful stepbrother took me in his strong arms and we kissed passionately, mouths open, tongues entwined, eyes firmly closed as if nothing else in the world mattered to either of us or ever would.

My arms rose around his neck as our bodies moulded to each other, swaying gently as we merged in our embrace. His tongue probed deep into my mouth and I sucked on it, then thrust mine into his in return as his fingers explored my body from my long hair to my bony bottom.

Jake’s hands rose to my tiny, firm boobs and he kneaded them through my night dress, toying with their hard, pointed nipples, nipping and twisting them in his fingertips. The mixture of pleasure and pain was exquisite; I found myself moaning into his mouth and instinctively rubbing my shameless crotch against his thigh.

Where in God’s name had I learned to do that?

I felt exploring hands slipping under my night dress, raising it high then sliding up my body to my chest where they cupped my bare breasts and nipples - which almost hurt they were so hard.

My own hands fell to his waist and for the first time in my life I began to rub a boy’s cock through his clothes. It felt huge beneath the thin cotton shorts, hot and hard and as I rubbed, its smooth end began to protrude ludicrously from the elastic band around his waist.

“Amyyyy,” he moaned. “That’s so good!”

Amazed at my boldness, I slipped my hand through the elasticated waistband and again for the first time in my life, my fingers closed around a boy’s erect penis. To my inexperienced mind it felt like an enormous pole of muscle; long, hard and thick with a surprisingly smooth shaft. The soft skin that covered it slipped easily over the hard muscle beneath and as my fingers ran up and down its length I felt the smooth, rounded end at its tip.

Something slippery was already beginning to leak from the tip of Jake’s erection. I ran my fingers up and down it as he massaged my bare breasts.

“Not so quick, Amy,” he hissed eventually. “I don’t want to cum yet!”

Barely understanding, I stopped stroking him and returned my arms to his neck, hanging off his strong frame. Jake’s confident hands returned to my bottom and soon, for the second time that evening I felt the hem of my dress being raised and his fingers on my bare flesh.

My tummy felt almost sick with nerves but the touch of his hands on my skin was incredibly exciting. Jake gently kneaded the tensed muscles of my bottom, pulling my body tightly into his as our mouths, lips and tongues worked overtime. I felt the lump in his boxer shorts pressing against my belly and dimly realised what it might mean but this time I wasn’t scared.

Jake’s hands moved from my buttocks to the cleft between them and once again a searching finger began to trace a line from my lower back downwards towards my groin. This time there were no unwanted knickers to bar the way and although I tensed sharply as his descending fingertips found the base of my slit from behind once again, I made no attempt to stop him.

Only twice before had I ever felt a boy’s fingers inside my knickers and never within my labia. As Jake’s fingers pushed my boundaries further and farther, something within me warned that I was about to enter unfamiliar territory, but whatever had made me run from it in the past was now simply not there. I was a different girl now; I wanted this to happen.

Tentatively, I bent my knees a little, opening my legs a tiny bit. Jakes’ finger slipped confidently into my slit and worked its way into the base of my vagina, the only finger other than my own that had ever entered that part of me.

Oh Jesus! It felt so good! My conscious brain was screaming at me to stop, that this was wrong, but my body was in control now and wanted more. I spread my legs a little further and was rewarded by the incredible sensation of Jake’s finger travelling the full length of my slit to my clitoris and back.

The sensation was overwhelming. My knees simply gave way and I leaned heavily against him.

“Oh Amy…” he sighed, taking his mouth away from mine for a moment, allowing us both to breathe.

I looked anxiously into his eyes but offered no resistance as he lowered me to the bed, lifting my night dress high under my armpits and exposing my boobs and vulva completely.

For a split second I tried to cover my modesty by pressing my knees together but then I felt his hot fingers on my pubic mound, toying with its sparse, unkempt triangle of dark hair and forcing my knees apart again.

I let them fall open, for the first time in my life opening my most private places for a boy to touch.

The amazing, pleasure-giving finger returned to my slit but this time from the front, sliding deftly back and forth, making me whimper and gasp with delight as he probed and aroused my most private parts. I felt myself moistening quickly, faster than I had ever done at my own hands.

I felt nervous, exposed, wanton but at the same time strangely safe in my stepbrother’s strong hands as Jake’s fingers spread my inner lips. I gasped again as more fingers joined the first within my slit, working their way simultaneously along both sides and nipping my clit ever-so-lightly as they reached its apex.

“Mmmmm!”

I could hear myself softly moaning then felt Jake’s lips on mine again. His tongue, long and firm, was thrust deep into my mouth and at the same time a long, strong finger was suddenly thrust into my vagina.

“Nnnnnngh!”

A bolt of pain flashed through me and I yelped as his forceful thrust was brought to a sudden halt by my very intact, very resistant hymen.

“Amy! I’m sorry…” Jake croaked in a horrified voice, immediately pulling his finger out of my entrance. “I didn’t know you were… Did I hurt you?”

I nodded, unable to speak feeling small tears of pain and embarrassment forming in my eyes.

“Do you want me to stop?” he asked earnestly.

I shook my head insistently.

“Be… be gentle though,” I begged, unconsciously using the time-honoured cliché spoken by so many girls for so many years.

I felt Jake’s slightly tentative hand return to my groin. To my delight he began to concentrate on the upper end of my slit where my clitoris lay all but undiscovered by male hands. My sweet, sweet stepbrother seemed instinctively to know exactly where to touch me and within seconds my head was thrown back on the bed as his fingertip began to make little circular movements on, around and incredibly underneath my most sensitive part.

I had of course brought myself to orgasm this way in the past, but the deftness and dexterity of his fingers along with my almost complete loss of inhibition and control made me climax within seconds, noisily and messily, calling out my new lover’s name in choking, almost incoherent tones.

Again and again his fingers found the right spot, toying expertly with my painfully-hard and swollen nub, bringing wave after wave of climax until my legs fell loosely open, my chest tight and my tummy painful from convulsions.

“Please…” I begged him. “Please…”not really knowing what I was begging him for.

The miraculous fingers eventually slowed to a stop. I panted heavily, desperately trying to get a grip on reality after the first climaxes any other person had ever given me. As my spinning head began to settle I heard a rustling sound and felt a movement between my legs. The bed rocked a little too and when I opened my eyes, Jake was kneeling between my widely spread thighs.

His sleep shorts had been discarded and the first real erection I had ever seen stood bolt upright from his wiry pubic hair. It looked simply huge.

“Just a moment,” he mumbled.

I watched, frozen half in fear as my brother reached over my head to grab his trousers that lay on the chair by the bed. As he leaned forwards and fumbled in the pockets his enormous erection came closer and closer to my face.

Jesus! It was big. I knew how it had felt in my hand a few moments ago but now, with its swollen, purple, bulbous head merely inches from my face it looked terrifying. Before I could react the fumbling ceased and Jakes sat back on his ankles, his wallet in his hand. A moment later he had pulled something from inside.

There was a soft sound, a little more fumbling and then I watched wide-eyes and spellbound as my stepbrother carefully rolled a smooth, clear condom over the smooth head of his erect penis and down the length of his shaft.

In my fuddled imagination it gleamed in the semi-darkness, smooth, strong and frighteningly large.

Suddenly I realised what was going to happen; Jake, my own stepbrother wanted to have sex with me, there and then, on his bed. He wanted to put that huge thing inside my body, a body that had never been penetrated before. This was the moment my pathetic sex life had been building up to, the thing I had fought all my previous boyfriends to prevent happening.

He leaned over me and I felt something huge and smooth being rubbed against my engorged, over-sensitive outer lips, parting them. Deep inside me a faint voice insisted that if I spoke now, I could prevent it happening; I could remain a virgin, untouched by male hands, not guilty of the action I so badly wanted to commit.

Or I could try and relax and let it happen; become a real woman in the arms of someone I loved and cared for and who loved and cared for me.

As my mind whirled, I felt Jake’s smooth, rounded head find the entrance to my vagina and press gently forwards. I winced in surprise and fear, my body tensing in anticipation but did nothing to stop him.

“Are you sure?” Jake asked, his eyes fixed on mine.

Unable to speak I just nodded, begging my body to open wider and wider for him; begging for there to be no pain but wanting it to happen, right then, right there, however it might feel.

“You’re incredible, Amy!” He lowered his head and kissed me on the lips. “I’ll be gentle, I promise!”

He smiled and a moment later his powerful body tensed slightly. I gasped as his thick, swollen head parted my inner lips and tried to enter me.

“Nnnnggh!”

I grunted aloud as his progress was brought to a standstill by my hymen and a bolt of sharp pain shot through my lower belly.

“Are you OK? Did I hurt you?” he asked, pausing in his first thrust.

“A... a bit!” I confessed.

He drew back a little and pressed gently home again with the same result. I winced again and felt tears running from the corner of my eyes.

It hurt! It really hurt!

But I couldn’t stop now could I? I couldn’t do that to him and deep down I knew I didn’t want to.

It was the right time. He was the right boy.

He loved me. He cared about me. He was gentle. He was gorgeous.

There couldn’t ever be a more perfect time or a perfect partner to lose my virginity with.

He thrust into me again; once, twice, a third time, each thrust harder than the last and more painful. I bit my lower lip to stifle the yelps, gripped the bed sheet in my fists and closed my eyes.

Four, five. Jake’s thrusts were becoming much stronger now, his whole body tensing as his powerful legs joined in the effort and the pain grew stronger.

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