Brotherly Love Exceeds To Fucking
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Looking back, 1993 was one of the best years of my life. Nirvana, Radiohead and Pearl Jam all released fantastic new albums. Jurassic Park was at the theaters and The X Files began running on TV. The Cowboys, after winning only one game in the 1990 season, won their division in 1992 and went on to blow out the Bills in the Super Bowl in 1993. My Rangers looked like they were going to be killer in the NL West, with Pudge, Juan Gonzalez, Jose Cansceco and Raffy Palmeiro poised to destroy opposing pitchers. That was before I knew that they were all pumped up with steroids.
That was also the year I got my driver’s license. Never mind I didn’t yet have a car, at least I had a license. Supposedly, my older sister and I shared my mom’s hand me down minivan, but that pretty much meant my sister had a car and I had to rely on my friends for rides. I planned to spend that summer mowing lawns or anything else that would pay so I could buy my own freedom machine. I already had some money saved from previous year’s odd jobs and birthday gifts. I wanted nothing to do with the minivan, and my dad said he’d help me get a truck if I came up with half the money.
That was the summer before my sophomore year, and I hoped to make varsity in football and track, or at least earn a starting position on JV. Of course, like all the athletes at my high school, I was expected to attend Speed Camp that summer. Everybody dreaded Speed Camp, a two hour session that began at six A.M. every weekday during the long, hot summer and included everything from wind-sprints to weight lifting to flipping tractor tires. As a member of the girl’s varsity soccer team, my sister also attended, so at least I had a ride every morning.
Though I dreaded Speed Camp, I have to admit I had never felt more vital or alive. My body was hard, without an ounce of fat on it, my eyes were clear and bright and I felt invincible. I fancied myself a he-man, though when I look at pictures now I realize how scrawny I was. I had just been introduced to pot, and smoked it with my buddies occasionally, but still hadn’t started drinking, so I woke up alert and feeling ready to take on the world every morning.
Though still a virgin, my libido was in high gear and I thought of nothing but girls all day long. I masturbated constantly, and needed very little to get me going. The misses section of a Sear’s mailer would do the job, with its pictures of teens wearing modest white bras. If I was fortunate enough to get the mail when a swimwear catalog came, you can be sure my mom would never see it.
Nothing was immune from getting sprayed. The walls of my shower, my underwear, my sheets; basically anything I was near when unable to control myself long enough to get paper towels or a washcloth in time. My poor mother, who did all the laundry, had to know I was jerking non-stop, but I couldn’t help it. My dick felt like it was carrying a ten pound load every moment of every day. The new found pleasure I found from orgasm was more powerful and more intense than any time since then.
While we had a family desktop computer, those were the days before availability of internet porn, or at least before I was aware of it. I was painfully shy around girls, but terribly interested in them. My friends and I talked about girls all the time, occasionally adding the obligatory lie about the girl we had lain in summer church camp or whatever, but the truth is, we were all equally clueless.
I had the advantage of an older sister two grades ahead of me, so at least I got to be near her foxy friends when they hung out at our house. They were mostly teammates on her soccer team, so they were in great physical condition. They hung out in her room, sitting on her bed, giggling, talking and listening to bullshit dance and pop music, from bands such as Color Me Badd, Janet Jackson, and the like. The good thing about being her little bro is that the girls didn’t even notice me, so they acted like I wasn’t even there. That meant skimpy nightwear and juicy conversations on sleepovers.
My bedroom was connected by a wall to hers, so when they spent the night, I listened in on their conversations with a glass to the wall. Their conversations were mostly benign, about the latest hit songs or schoolwork or whatever, but occasionally I heard rumors about other girls or listened to their fantasies about boys their age. One night I even found out that my sister had begun taking the pill. I’m pretty sure she was still a virgin, but probably looking to change that.
Shortly after school was out for the summer, she began seeing Phil Henderson, a real dork that I couldn’t stand. He had nothing that she normally looked for in guys; he wasn’t an athlete, he wasn’t particularly good looking and he had a sour disposition. My parents didn’t say much about him, but I’m pretty sure they disliked him as well, which probably made my sister want to continue seeing him.
Phil had a summer job at the mall, so he didn’t get off work until nine o’clock, and came straight to our house every night. Since my parents wouldn’t allow Trish to see guys in her room, that meant they took over the couch. I didn’t have a TV in my room, so that meant I usually didn’t get to watch anything on TV, which chapped my ass, I can tell you. The exception was if the Rangers game was on; in that case, I stayed and watched the game. The Rangers games were non-negotiable. Otherwise, I left them alone to cuddle and baby talk with each other.
Whenever I went into the kitchen to get a drink or something, I met the icy glare of my sister, silently questioning how I could violate her majesty’s privacy. Sometimes they didn’t notice me and I saw them making out, Phil struggling to sneak his hand under her top while she tried to keep him out. They were both flushed with desire by the time he left. He couldn’t stay late, since Trish had to be up early for Speed Camp. Since he didn’t attend Speed Camp, he usually slept in until time to go to work, so they couldn’t see each other before he went to work. That made their night time visits more urgent.
One night after he left and Trish had gone to bed, I put the glass against her wall and held my ear against it to see if she was talking to one of her friends on the phone. I didn’t hear her talking, but I could make out an unfamiliar sound coming from her room. It sounded like a humming noise of some sort. Curious, I continued to listen. Soon, I heard Trish begin to pant lightly, then she obviously attempted to stifle moaning noises. I knew immediately what that sound was, as I made those noises myself constantly.
I was amazed; who knew that girls did that too? It’s not that I consciously believed that only guys masturbated, and girls didn’t. It’s just that I had never thought about it. I had never considered the possibility that girls jerked themselves off. How in the hell could they do it; they didn’t have a dick. They didn’t ejaculate. Or did they? What is it that would cause them to cum? Now my interest was up.
As I continued to listen, I could no longer hear anything as her breathing returned to normal. My dick was rock hard as I pictured my sister lying naked in her bed recovering from an intense orgasm. I instantly turned off my light and got in bed, slipping off my underwear. I grabbed one of my socks off the floor next to my bed, and readied it. As I lay there, gently caressing my balls and my hard dick, I pictured my sister, lying in her bed with her hand in her crotch, her little titties exposed. I had seen her in bathing suits and bras enough in my life that I could imagine how they looked, though I had never seen them bare.
My balls began to tingle and my body and mind were filled with pleasurable waves of endorphins as my cock started pumping sperm into my sock. It was all I could do to keep quiet as the waves of pleasure rocked my world. As coherent thought returned, I vowed to learn more about the internal workings of females. How did those fascinating creatures pleasure themselves, and more importantly, how could I learn to pleasure them, and perhaps most importantly, how could I convince them to allow me to pleasure them?
The next day, after Speed Camp, my sister dropped me off at home and sped off with three of her girlfriends. Alone in the house, I went into her bedroom to see what I could find. Her room was strictly off limits, punishable by death and enforced not just by her, but also by my parents. Partially to keep her off their case, they had made it very clear years ago that I was to respect her privacy. I had to be very careful not to disturb anything in her room, and to leave it exactly as I found it; as a total pig sty.
My parents wouldn’t step foot in her room. If it was ever to be cleaned, my sister would have to do so, and she didn’t ever get the inclination to do so. There were clothes thrown on the floor, bed and across the back of the chair at her desk. Empty to-go cups with lids and straws were on her nightstand. Her trash can overflowed onto the floor with food wrappers, school papers and other debris. If she could ever tell that I had been in her room and disturbed her stuff, it would only be because she intentionally set a trap for me, putting something just so to see if it had been disturbed.
I picked up a pair of the cotton panties that she wore under her gym shorts at Speed Camp and sniffed the crotch. Musky. It smelled not unlike the sweat of my own crotch after a hard workout, but a little stronger. I carefully put the panties down where they had been, and picked up one of her bras. Not the sports bra that she worked out in, but one of her padded bras. The tag said 34B. I put it back in place. My dick was hard from fondling her underwear, and from the excitement of sneaking through her room. I wasn’t sure what I was looking for, but it was still exciting to be snooping around.
I pulled back the covers of her messy bed. Nothing in there. I looked around under her pillows, which were strewn across the bed and on the floor. Nothing. Getting down on my hands and knees, I looked under the bed. There was a duffel bag, sandals, a broken pair of sunglasses and a bunch of lacrosse equipment. I looked through the duffel bag. Seeing nothing of interest, I put it back in place.
Just then I noticed that there were two things plugged into the outlet between her bed and nightstand. Other than the lamp, what was plugged in there? Curious, I followed the extra AC cord. Hidden behind her nightstand, with a stuffed toy animal covering it was the old Oster brand massager that my mom had owned for years.
Normally this massager was stored in the hallway linen closet, along with the heating pad, ice bag, enema bag, and other seldom if ever used health care items. I had seen my mom use this old fashioned massager once or twice before, when my dad had back spasms around his neck.
It consisted of a large, white base that you held in your hand with a short metal stub coming out of it that held various attachments. There was a switch on top. I clicked it on and it began vibrating. I moved the switch one more position and it began vibrating harder, and the humming was more pronounced. The humming noise it made was exactly what I had heard the night before. I’m sure this is what my sister had been using.
But why? Given the moaning noises I heard her make, I’m pretty sure I knew the answer to that. But more importantly, how? How did girls masturbate? My research into the female anatomy had included porn magazines that my cousin had shown me. While those magazines were graphic, I still had no clue how this vibrator combined with those body parts to generate the pleasure I got when I sprayed my load.
I went to the linen closet and looked at the box that the massager was stored in. The illustrations on the box looked like something from the 1960s. No telling how long my mom had owned it. Was it possible that she used it for such a purpose as my sis did? No way, that was totally inconceivable. I was totally unable to picture my mom, lying in bed and doing to herself what I did to myself almost every night.
According to the box, there were three attachments included. The first was a flat, round attachment with raised rubber nubs. That was called a scalp attachment. The second looked like a suction cup, and was a facial attachment. The third attachment, the one that was missing from the box because it was attached to the massager was for general or spot usage. It looked like a rubber knob. It was long and rounded on the end.
Hearing a car outside, I quickly went to the entryway and looked out the window, my heart beating frantically. It wasn’t my sister’s car, so I reentered her room, my heart still beating quickly. I felt the rubber attachment, then held it to my nose. It smelled the same as the crotch on her panties, though more faint. Now there was absolutely no question as to what she was doing with the massager.
My dick was hard as I thought about her, lying in her bed with the massager buried in her crotch. It strained against the waistband of my shorts, demanding attention as it so often did. The excitement of the last thirty minutes was too much.
I picked up my sister’s soiled panties and laid back on her bed, lowering my shorts and underwear. My hard, stiff dick stood at a 45 degree angle from my body as I lay back. I’ve never been so easily excited, nor so hard as I was as a teenager. I fondled my balls as I held the panties to my nose, breathing in the unfamiliar aroma of my sister’s pussy. It smelled slightly like pencil shavings, though stronger.
My mind filled with the fantasy of my sister’s naked body writhing in ecstasy with the massager pressed against her pussy and the pungent aroma of her panties. I flipped on the massager and held it against my hard dick. I positioned it directly on the vein that ran along the underside of my dick, the one that delivered my semen, the one that caused so much pleasure when rubbed.
Even at the lowest setting, the vibrations from the massager were so intense they were almost painful against my throbbing dick. It was barely making contact with my skin, yet I was able to last no more than seconds before my cum began spewing out of my dick onto my belly. I grunted and trembled as the overpowering orgasm shook me. As the sensations began to recede, I started to come back to the present.
I quickly pulled up my shorts and underwear together, and taking care to replace everything I disturbed, I left the room and closed the door. Going into the bathroom, I wiped myself up with toilet tissue and flushed it down the toilet.
Over the next few days I constantly fantasized about my sister’s body. I had seen her in all sorts of outfits over the years and rarely given it much thought, but now I could think of little else. She had always been a grumpy co-inhabitant of our house that I had to put up with when I was unable to avoid. But now she became a fascinating creature of interest.
Every night Trish spent an hour or more necking with Phil on our couch, wrestling with him to keep his hands out of her top, then spent another ten or fifteen minutes outside by his car, saying good night, and kissing even more passionately without the fear of our parents walking in. By the time she got back inside she was so horny her skin was flushed, and it was all she could do to keep from immediately taking care of her needy pussy.
She would go into the bathroom and see to her nightly routine first, washing her face and brushing her teeth. But within moments of entering her bedroom I could hear the hum of the massager. Every night I pressed my ear to the glass that I held against the common wall we shared, listening intently as she used the massager to bring herself off.
I listened until she finished, panting and moaning until her breathing resumed to normal, then I could hear her replace the massager in its hiding spot behind her nightstand, with the stuffed toy animal on top of it. Only then would I lie on my back in the dark, my underwear pulled down to my ankles, and stroke my hard dick. Closing my eyes, I envisioned my sister inserting the rubber attachment inside her pussy and turning it on, letting it vibrate against her until she shuddered her orgasm.
I envisioned her lithe body writhing in pleasure as she tweaked her nipples. While I hadn’t ever seen her naked since she became a woman, I had seen her scantily clad enough to be able to imagine what she looked like. She was thin, with long, blond hair and small breasts. She had very long, sexy legs, perfectly shaped, and a tight ass. I thought she was beautiful.
That summer I became obsessed with my sister, and I could think of nothing else. I tried every way I could to come up with a way to see what went on in her bedroom, but I couldn’t come up with anything that wasn’t too risky. There was no way to see in her second story bedroom windows without climbing on the roof. There was no keyhole in her door, our house was too modern for that. I knew nothing in those days of spycams or the like, and wouldn’t have dared try that anyway. So I contented myself with listening and imagining, but it was driving me nuts.
Finally, when I couldn’t stand it any longer, I came up with a bold plan. One night, when I heard Trish walk Phil out to his car to say good night, I acted. I knew I had at least ten minutes, but my heart pounded in my chest nonetheless as I quickly enacted my plan. I knew my parents were in their bedroom and unlikely to come out at this hour. I quickly and quietly snuck into Trish’s bedroom, unplugged the massager and took it downstairs. I turned on SportsCenter on TV and waited.
After a few minutes, Trish came back in. Her top was rumpled; I could tell she had no bra on. I’m sure Phil had enjoyed that. She quickly said good night and turned to go upstairs. It was all I could do to keep my voice steady as I said good night. My heart was pounding through my chest. I had never been so scared or nervous, but I was also very excited.
I heard the bathroom door close upstairs, and I quickly took the massager to the hiding place I had selected, then came back to the couch and sat back down. I had her nightly routine timed to the minute, and knew when she would be going into her bedroom, and what she hoped to do once there. It was all I could do to keep from chuckling as I thought about her wonderment and fear when she saw her little fuck toy missing. I heard her come out of the bathroom, and her bedroom door close behind her. I knew she’d be locking her bedroom door, to make sure nobody walked in on her while she was splayed on her bed, the massager in her crotch.
I nervously sat waiting, unable to focus on the words coming from the talking head on SportsCenter. Soon her door opened and she came downstairs. I heard her in the hall as she looked in the linen closet. I’m sure she was checking to see if someone had found it and put it back in its box.
I can only imagine how she felt. Scared, for sure. Was it mom that found it? Dad? What would they think? What would they say? Would they believe she had a soccer injury that she needed to massage?
Embarrassment. She knew they would know why she had that massager in her room. She knew they wouldn’t believe the story about a soccer injury needing massaging. She would never get over the embarrassment of having her parents aware that she was using their electric power tool to masturbate.
As she put her hand on the newel to begin climbing up the stairs, she suddenly looked at me and scowled. She hesitated at the bottom of the stairs. Could it have been her little brother? My heart sank into my stomach as my perfectly rehearsed idea of how this conversation would go seemed all wrong all of a sudden.
“What’s the matter? Lose something?” I said, with a nervous smile.
I could see she was weighing whether or not to ask me.
“No,” she said.
“What are you looking for?”
“Nothing,” she said, then turned to go up the stairs.
Suddenly she stopped and turned around, coming toward the couch. Whispering, so mom and dad wouldn’t be disturbed, she said, “Have you been snooping around in my room?”
“I might have needed to try to find my AD/DC CD, and thought maybe it might be in there,” I said innocently.
Her eyes flashed angrily.
“Why the hell would I have your shitty metal music? I’ve told you not to go in my room. Did you take something?”
“I didn’t find my CD in there,” I said.
“That’s not what I asked. Did you take something from my room?”
“Nothing of yours,” I said.
“What did you take, you little prick? I’m gonna tell mom you were in my room. You know you aren’t supposed to go in there.”
“You’re gonna tell mom?” I said, with a smirk on my face. “Are you sure you’re gonna tell mom? What about Phil? And dad? Should we tell them too?”
My sister looked like she was going to start crying. She was so angry her face turned red, yet she didn’t want to wake our parents.
“Tell them what?” she asked innocently. “That you were snooping around in my room?”
“No, not that. I think they might be more interested in learning what I found, and what you use it for.”
“You bastard!” she shouted.
She lunged at me, her fists raised to strike me. I grabbed her wrists and held her arms as she struggled to free them and scratch or hit me. We stood there for a while, grappling, but I was too powerful for her. She finally relaxed and said, “Let me go, prick.”
I let go of her arms, stepping back to keep her from a quick strike.
“Be quiet or you’ll waked mom and dad. You don’t want them to know what you what you use that thing for?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“No? You don’t use it to play with yourself?”
She turned bright red again, and I was afraid she would launch herself at me again, but she tried to stay cool.
“You’re crazy. I just use it to massage my muscles.”
“I know what muscle you use it on. I’m sure Phil would love to know all about that.”
“What makes you think he’d believe a little kid like you? You don’t have a clue what you’re talking about.”
“I know he’d believe me.”
“How do you know?”
“Because all I’d have to do is let him smell it. There can be no doubt if he smells it.”
I could see the color leave my sister’s face as she realized that I knew her dirty secret, and had the goods to prove it.
With her eyes downcast, she muttered, “What the hell do you want?”
My heart fluttered. This was turning out just how I had hoped.
“I want to watch you.”
“Wh.. wh.. what?” she stuttered.
“I want to watch. That’s all. Once.”
She was too stunned to say anything for a moment. Then, composing herself, she said, “You need treatment, you little pervert. You want to watch you sister? God, you are a disease.”
She turned around to leave, and I said, “Please. I’ve never seen a girl. I’d like to watch. It will cost you nothing, and I’ll never say a word to anyone. You’ll get back what you want. Everybody wins.”
“No way!”
“I’ll tell Phil.”
“Bullshit. You wouldn’t do that.”
There’s no way I would tell Phil anything, but she didn’t know that.
“Okay,” I said, shrugging my shoulders and turning back to SportsCenter.
“You wouldn’t do that, would you?” she asked, her eyes pleading. It was all she could do to keep from acting like she was desperate. “I’ve never done anything to embarrass you.”
"Let me watch, and I’ll never say a word,” I said.
“Fuck you.”
“Okay, I’ll give you twenty four hours to change your mind, then I’m going to let Phil know. I’m sure he won’t repeat it. It’ll be a fun little secret between you.”
Her face turned red as she stormed out of the room.
The next day I had several jobs, so I left after Speed Camp with my mowing equipment, working my way around the neighborhood, doing the neighbor’s lawns. I knew my sister would be busy, and was happy to leave her alone in the house.
Sure enough, when I returned, I saw that she had gone through every drawer, cabinet and cubbyhole in my room. Nothing was undisturbed. I expected as much, and there’s no way I would have hidden her massager someplace so obvious. After I showered, I walked past her room to go to my room and saw her lying on her bed reading a magazine.
“Did you find what you were looking for?” I asked.
“Fuck you.”
“Six more hours,” I reminded her as I walked away.
Phil didn’t come over that night, the first time in a long time he’d missed a night. My sis must have had too much on her mind. As I was going to my bedroom for the night, I tapped on my sister’s door.
“Yeah?” she said.
I opened her door and looked in. She was sitting at her desk, doing her nails. She looked up and said, “What do you want, asshole?”
I said, “Time’s up. What have you decided?”
She blew on her nails to dry them. Surveying her work, she said, “Give me another day.”
“You don’t need another day. The answer is yes or no. What’s it gonna be.”
“Okay, yes. But not tonight. Tomorrow, when nobody’s home.”
I knew she was just stalling, but I also knew that there was no way she was going to find it, so I let her have her extra time.
“Okay, I’ll give you till noon tomorrow.”
The next morning, she said she didn’t feel good and was going to skip Speed Camp. She gave me the keys to the mini-van and I told her I’d give her lame ass excuse to her coach. I also told her I was going to hang out with my friends until noon. That would give her plenty of time to realize she wasn’t going to find the massager.
When I got back, it was obvious she’d gone back through my room, as well as all the bathroom cabinets, the linen closets, even the garage and the attic storage area. Over the last thirty six hours, she had left nothing unturned, looking under all the furniture, bookcases, everything. She had even looked through my parent’s bedroom.
“Have you decided?” I asked her.
“Yeah, I’ve decided. You can go fuck yourself.”
“Okay, I guess I’ll ask dad why that massager was in your bedroom, and why it smells like it does. Then, I guess I’ll tell Phil. You want me to let your girlfriends know too?”
She was crestfallen. Looking down, she said, “Please. Don’t do that.”
“I won’t if you let me watch. Just once. I’ll never bother you again.”
“No.”
“Okay, your choice. I’ll talk to dad tonight, and Phil next time I see him.”
“No, please don’t do that,” she pleaded.
“You know what I want,” I said, turning to leave.
I showered, then went into the kitchen to find something for lunch. Trish was in the living room.
“Okay,” she said. “I’ll do it. Where is it?”
“You sure?” I asked. “No tricks, I can take it away from you, you know. I’m stronger than you.”
“Okay,” she said, resignedly.
My heart fluttered. I was skeptical, but excited. Was it a trick? I damn sure hoped not.
“Be right back,” I said, as I went out to the car.
I came back in with the massager.
“It was in the car?” she said.
“Under your nose,” I answered. “Usually the last place anyone would look.”
She reached for it, but I pulled it away.
“Not yet,” I said. “Let’s go.”
She followed me up the stairs, into her bedroom. I plugged the massager back into the outlet next to her nightstand. When I turned around, she was standing in her doorway.
“Well?” I said.
“Why are you doing this?” she said. She looked like she was going to break into tears.
“Why?” I said. “I’ll tell you why. Almost every single night I hear you in here. I hear this thing buzzing, then I hear you moaning, and I know what you’re doing. It’s driving me crazy, hearing you but not seeing you. You do it all the time, and it’s all I think of. I want to watch you. Is that so hard to understand?”
“It’s wrong,” she said.
“I don’t care. I want to see. Show me.”
I set the massager on her nightstand and walked over to her. Putting my hands on her shoulders, I gently led her toward her bed.
“Show me,” I repeated.
I pushed down on her shoulders, and she sat on the edge ofTo continue reading this story you must be a member. Join for FREE here.
That was also the year I got my driver’s license. Never mind I didn’t yet have a car, at least I had a license. Supposedly, my older sister and I shared my mom’s hand me down minivan, but that pretty much meant my sister had a car and I had to rely on my friends for rides. I planned to spend that summer mowing lawns or anything else that would pay so I could buy my own freedom machine. I already had some money saved from previous year’s odd jobs and birthday gifts. I wanted nothing to do with the minivan, and my dad said he’d help me get a truck if I came up with half the money.
That was the summer before my sophomore year, and I hoped to make varsity in football and track, or at least earn a starting position on JV. Of course, like all the athletes at my high school, I was expected to attend Speed Camp that summer. Everybody dreaded Speed Camp, a two hour session that began at six A.M. every weekday during the long, hot summer and included everything from wind-sprints to weight lifting to flipping tractor tires. As a member of the girl’s varsity soccer team, my sister also attended, so at least I had a ride every morning.
Though I dreaded Speed Camp, I have to admit I had never felt more vital or alive. My body was hard, without an ounce of fat on it, my eyes were clear and bright and I felt invincible. I fancied myself a he-man, though when I look at pictures now I realize how scrawny I was. I had just been introduced to pot, and smoked it with my buddies occasionally, but still hadn’t started drinking, so I woke up alert and feeling ready to take on the world every morning.
Though still a virgin, my libido was in high gear and I thought of nothing but girls all day long. I masturbated constantly, and needed very little to get me going. The misses section of a Sear’s mailer would do the job, with its pictures of teens wearing modest white bras. If I was fortunate enough to get the mail when a swimwear catalog came, you can be sure my mom would never see it.
Nothing was immune from getting sprayed. The walls of my shower, my underwear, my sheets; basically anything I was near when unable to control myself long enough to get paper towels or a washcloth in time. My poor mother, who did all the laundry, had to know I was jerking non-stop, but I couldn’t help it. My dick felt like it was carrying a ten pound load every moment of every day. The new found pleasure I found from orgasm was more powerful and more intense than any time since then.
While we had a family desktop computer, those were the days before availability of internet porn, or at least before I was aware of it. I was painfully shy around girls, but terribly interested in them. My friends and I talked about girls all the time, occasionally adding the obligatory lie about the girl we had lain in summer church camp or whatever, but the truth is, we were all equally clueless.
I had the advantage of an older sister two grades ahead of me, so at least I got to be near her foxy friends when they hung out at our house. They were mostly teammates on her soccer team, so they were in great physical condition. They hung out in her room, sitting on her bed, giggling, talking and listening to bullshit dance and pop music, from bands such as Color Me Badd, Janet Jackson, and the like. The good thing about being her little bro is that the girls didn’t even notice me, so they acted like I wasn’t even there. That meant skimpy nightwear and juicy conversations on sleepovers.
My bedroom was connected by a wall to hers, so when they spent the night, I listened in on their conversations with a glass to the wall. Their conversations were mostly benign, about the latest hit songs or schoolwork or whatever, but occasionally I heard rumors about other girls or listened to their fantasies about boys their age. One night I even found out that my sister had begun taking the pill. I’m pretty sure she was still a virgin, but probably looking to change that.
Shortly after school was out for the summer, she began seeing Phil Henderson, a real dork that I couldn’t stand. He had nothing that she normally looked for in guys; he wasn’t an athlete, he wasn’t particularly good looking and he had a sour disposition. My parents didn’t say much about him, but I’m pretty sure they disliked him as well, which probably made my sister want to continue seeing him.
Phil had a summer job at the mall, so he didn’t get off work until nine o’clock, and came straight to our house every night. Since my parents wouldn’t allow Trish to see guys in her room, that meant they took over the couch. I didn’t have a TV in my room, so that meant I usually didn’t get to watch anything on TV, which chapped my ass, I can tell you. The exception was if the Rangers game was on; in that case, I stayed and watched the game. The Rangers games were non-negotiable. Otherwise, I left them alone to cuddle and baby talk with each other.
Whenever I went into the kitchen to get a drink or something, I met the icy glare of my sister, silently questioning how I could violate her majesty’s privacy. Sometimes they didn’t notice me and I saw them making out, Phil struggling to sneak his hand under her top while she tried to keep him out. They were both flushed with desire by the time he left. He couldn’t stay late, since Trish had to be up early for Speed Camp. Since he didn’t attend Speed Camp, he usually slept in until time to go to work, so they couldn’t see each other before he went to work. That made their night time visits more urgent.
One night after he left and Trish had gone to bed, I put the glass against her wall and held my ear against it to see if she was talking to one of her friends on the phone. I didn’t hear her talking, but I could make out an unfamiliar sound coming from her room. It sounded like a humming noise of some sort. Curious, I continued to listen. Soon, I heard Trish begin to pant lightly, then she obviously attempted to stifle moaning noises. I knew immediately what that sound was, as I made those noises myself constantly.
I was amazed; who knew that girls did that too? It’s not that I consciously believed that only guys masturbated, and girls didn’t. It’s just that I had never thought about it. I had never considered the possibility that girls jerked themselves off. How in the hell could they do it; they didn’t have a dick. They didn’t ejaculate. Or did they? What is it that would cause them to cum? Now my interest was up.
As I continued to listen, I could no longer hear anything as her breathing returned to normal. My dick was rock hard as I pictured my sister lying naked in her bed recovering from an intense orgasm. I instantly turned off my light and got in bed, slipping off my underwear. I grabbed one of my socks off the floor next to my bed, and readied it. As I lay there, gently caressing my balls and my hard dick, I pictured my sister, lying in her bed with her hand in her crotch, her little titties exposed. I had seen her in bathing suits and bras enough in my life that I could imagine how they looked, though I had never seen them bare.
My balls began to tingle and my body and mind were filled with pleasurable waves of endorphins as my cock started pumping sperm into my sock. It was all I could do to keep quiet as the waves of pleasure rocked my world. As coherent thought returned, I vowed to learn more about the internal workings of females. How did those fascinating creatures pleasure themselves, and more importantly, how could I learn to pleasure them, and perhaps most importantly, how could I convince them to allow me to pleasure them?
The next day, after Speed Camp, my sister dropped me off at home and sped off with three of her girlfriends. Alone in the house, I went into her bedroom to see what I could find. Her room was strictly off limits, punishable by death and enforced not just by her, but also by my parents. Partially to keep her off their case, they had made it very clear years ago that I was to respect her privacy. I had to be very careful not to disturb anything in her room, and to leave it exactly as I found it; as a total pig sty.
My parents wouldn’t step foot in her room. If it was ever to be cleaned, my sister would have to do so, and she didn’t ever get the inclination to do so. There were clothes thrown on the floor, bed and across the back of the chair at her desk. Empty to-go cups with lids and straws were on her nightstand. Her trash can overflowed onto the floor with food wrappers, school papers and other debris. If she could ever tell that I had been in her room and disturbed her stuff, it would only be because she intentionally set a trap for me, putting something just so to see if it had been disturbed.
I picked up a pair of the cotton panties that she wore under her gym shorts at Speed Camp and sniffed the crotch. Musky. It smelled not unlike the sweat of my own crotch after a hard workout, but a little stronger. I carefully put the panties down where they had been, and picked up one of her bras. Not the sports bra that she worked out in, but one of her padded bras. The tag said 34B. I put it back in place. My dick was hard from fondling her underwear, and from the excitement of sneaking through her room. I wasn’t sure what I was looking for, but it was still exciting to be snooping around.
I pulled back the covers of her messy bed. Nothing in there. I looked around under her pillows, which were strewn across the bed and on the floor. Nothing. Getting down on my hands and knees, I looked under the bed. There was a duffel bag, sandals, a broken pair of sunglasses and a bunch of lacrosse equipment. I looked through the duffel bag. Seeing nothing of interest, I put it back in place.
Just then I noticed that there were two things plugged into the outlet between her bed and nightstand. Other than the lamp, what was plugged in there? Curious, I followed the extra AC cord. Hidden behind her nightstand, with a stuffed toy animal covering it was the old Oster brand massager that my mom had owned for years.
Normally this massager was stored in the hallway linen closet, along with the heating pad, ice bag, enema bag, and other seldom if ever used health care items. I had seen my mom use this old fashioned massager once or twice before, when my dad had back spasms around his neck.
It consisted of a large, white base that you held in your hand with a short metal stub coming out of it that held various attachments. There was a switch on top. I clicked it on and it began vibrating. I moved the switch one more position and it began vibrating harder, and the humming was more pronounced. The humming noise it made was exactly what I had heard the night before. I’m sure this is what my sister had been using.
But why? Given the moaning noises I heard her make, I’m pretty sure I knew the answer to that. But more importantly, how? How did girls masturbate? My research into the female anatomy had included porn magazines that my cousin had shown me. While those magazines were graphic, I still had no clue how this vibrator combined with those body parts to generate the pleasure I got when I sprayed my load.
I went to the linen closet and looked at the box that the massager was stored in. The illustrations on the box looked like something from the 1960s. No telling how long my mom had owned it. Was it possible that she used it for such a purpose as my sis did? No way, that was totally inconceivable. I was totally unable to picture my mom, lying in bed and doing to herself what I did to myself almost every night.
According to the box, there were three attachments included. The first was a flat, round attachment with raised rubber nubs. That was called a scalp attachment. The second looked like a suction cup, and was a facial attachment. The third attachment, the one that was missing from the box because it was attached to the massager was for general or spot usage. It looked like a rubber knob. It was long and rounded on the end.
Hearing a car outside, I quickly went to the entryway and looked out the window, my heart beating frantically. It wasn’t my sister’s car, so I reentered her room, my heart still beating quickly. I felt the rubber attachment, then held it to my nose. It smelled the same as the crotch on her panties, though more faint. Now there was absolutely no question as to what she was doing with the massager.
My dick was hard as I thought about her, lying in her bed with the massager buried in her crotch. It strained against the waistband of my shorts, demanding attention as it so often did. The excitement of the last thirty minutes was too much.
I picked up my sister’s soiled panties and laid back on her bed, lowering my shorts and underwear. My hard, stiff dick stood at a 45 degree angle from my body as I lay back. I’ve never been so easily excited, nor so hard as I was as a teenager. I fondled my balls as I held the panties to my nose, breathing in the unfamiliar aroma of my sister’s pussy. It smelled slightly like pencil shavings, though stronger.
My mind filled with the fantasy of my sister’s naked body writhing in ecstasy with the massager pressed against her pussy and the pungent aroma of her panties. I flipped on the massager and held it against my hard dick. I positioned it directly on the vein that ran along the underside of my dick, the one that delivered my semen, the one that caused so much pleasure when rubbed.
Even at the lowest setting, the vibrations from the massager were so intense they were almost painful against my throbbing dick. It was barely making contact with my skin, yet I was able to last no more than seconds before my cum began spewing out of my dick onto my belly. I grunted and trembled as the overpowering orgasm shook me. As the sensations began to recede, I started to come back to the present.
I quickly pulled up my shorts and underwear together, and taking care to replace everything I disturbed, I left the room and closed the door. Going into the bathroom, I wiped myself up with toilet tissue and flushed it down the toilet.
Over the next few days I constantly fantasized about my sister’s body. I had seen her in all sorts of outfits over the years and rarely given it much thought, but now I could think of little else. She had always been a grumpy co-inhabitant of our house that I had to put up with when I was unable to avoid. But now she became a fascinating creature of interest.
Every night Trish spent an hour or more necking with Phil on our couch, wrestling with him to keep his hands out of her top, then spent another ten or fifteen minutes outside by his car, saying good night, and kissing even more passionately without the fear of our parents walking in. By the time she got back inside she was so horny her skin was flushed, and it was all she could do to keep from immediately taking care of her needy pussy.
She would go into the bathroom and see to her nightly routine first, washing her face and brushing her teeth. But within moments of entering her bedroom I could hear the hum of the massager. Every night I pressed my ear to the glass that I held against the common wall we shared, listening intently as she used the massager to bring herself off.
I listened until she finished, panting and moaning until her breathing resumed to normal, then I could hear her replace the massager in its hiding spot behind her nightstand, with the stuffed toy animal on top of it. Only then would I lie on my back in the dark, my underwear pulled down to my ankles, and stroke my hard dick. Closing my eyes, I envisioned my sister inserting the rubber attachment inside her pussy and turning it on, letting it vibrate against her until she shuddered her orgasm.
I envisioned her lithe body writhing in pleasure as she tweaked her nipples. While I hadn’t ever seen her naked since she became a woman, I had seen her scantily clad enough to be able to imagine what she looked like. She was thin, with long, blond hair and small breasts. She had very long, sexy legs, perfectly shaped, and a tight ass. I thought she was beautiful.
That summer I became obsessed with my sister, and I could think of nothing else. I tried every way I could to come up with a way to see what went on in her bedroom, but I couldn’t come up with anything that wasn’t too risky. There was no way to see in her second story bedroom windows without climbing on the roof. There was no keyhole in her door, our house was too modern for that. I knew nothing in those days of spycams or the like, and wouldn’t have dared try that anyway. So I contented myself with listening and imagining, but it was driving me nuts.
Finally, when I couldn’t stand it any longer, I came up with a bold plan. One night, when I heard Trish walk Phil out to his car to say good night, I acted. I knew I had at least ten minutes, but my heart pounded in my chest nonetheless as I quickly enacted my plan. I knew my parents were in their bedroom and unlikely to come out at this hour. I quickly and quietly snuck into Trish’s bedroom, unplugged the massager and took it downstairs. I turned on SportsCenter on TV and waited.
After a few minutes, Trish came back in. Her top was rumpled; I could tell she had no bra on. I’m sure Phil had enjoyed that. She quickly said good night and turned to go upstairs. It was all I could do to keep my voice steady as I said good night. My heart was pounding through my chest. I had never been so scared or nervous, but I was also very excited.
I heard the bathroom door close upstairs, and I quickly took the massager to the hiding place I had selected, then came back to the couch and sat back down. I had her nightly routine timed to the minute, and knew when she would be going into her bedroom, and what she hoped to do once there. It was all I could do to keep from chuckling as I thought about her wonderment and fear when she saw her little fuck toy missing. I heard her come out of the bathroom, and her bedroom door close behind her. I knew she’d be locking her bedroom door, to make sure nobody walked in on her while she was splayed on her bed, the massager in her crotch.
I nervously sat waiting, unable to focus on the words coming from the talking head on SportsCenter. Soon her door opened and she came downstairs. I heard her in the hall as she looked in the linen closet. I’m sure she was checking to see if someone had found it and put it back in its box.
I can only imagine how she felt. Scared, for sure. Was it mom that found it? Dad? What would they think? What would they say? Would they believe she had a soccer injury that she needed to massage?
Embarrassment. She knew they would know why she had that massager in her room. She knew they wouldn’t believe the story about a soccer injury needing massaging. She would never get over the embarrassment of having her parents aware that she was using their electric power tool to masturbate.
As she put her hand on the newel to begin climbing up the stairs, she suddenly looked at me and scowled. She hesitated at the bottom of the stairs. Could it have been her little brother? My heart sank into my stomach as my perfectly rehearsed idea of how this conversation would go seemed all wrong all of a sudden.
“What’s the matter? Lose something?” I said, with a nervous smile.
I could see she was weighing whether or not to ask me.
“No,” she said.
“What are you looking for?”
“Nothing,” she said, then turned to go up the stairs.
Suddenly she stopped and turned around, coming toward the couch. Whispering, so mom and dad wouldn’t be disturbed, she said, “Have you been snooping around in my room?”
“I might have needed to try to find my AD/DC CD, and thought maybe it might be in there,” I said innocently.
Her eyes flashed angrily.
“Why the hell would I have your shitty metal music? I’ve told you not to go in my room. Did you take something?”
“I didn’t find my CD in there,” I said.
“That’s not what I asked. Did you take something from my room?”
“Nothing of yours,” I said.
“What did you take, you little prick? I’m gonna tell mom you were in my room. You know you aren’t supposed to go in there.”
“You’re gonna tell mom?” I said, with a smirk on my face. “Are you sure you’re gonna tell mom? What about Phil? And dad? Should we tell them too?”
My sister looked like she was going to start crying. She was so angry her face turned red, yet she didn’t want to wake our parents.
“Tell them what?” she asked innocently. “That you were snooping around in my room?”
“No, not that. I think they might be more interested in learning what I found, and what you use it for.”
“You bastard!” she shouted.
She lunged at me, her fists raised to strike me. I grabbed her wrists and held her arms as she struggled to free them and scratch or hit me. We stood there for a while, grappling, but I was too powerful for her. She finally relaxed and said, “Let me go, prick.”
I let go of her arms, stepping back to keep her from a quick strike.
“Be quiet or you’ll waked mom and dad. You don’t want them to know what you what you use that thing for?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“No? You don’t use it to play with yourself?”
She turned bright red again, and I was afraid she would launch herself at me again, but she tried to stay cool.
“You’re crazy. I just use it to massage my muscles.”
“I know what muscle you use it on. I’m sure Phil would love to know all about that.”
“What makes you think he’d believe a little kid like you? You don’t have a clue what you’re talking about.”
“I know he’d believe me.”
“How do you know?”
“Because all I’d have to do is let him smell it. There can be no doubt if he smells it.”
I could see the color leave my sister’s face as she realized that I knew her dirty secret, and had the goods to prove it.
With her eyes downcast, she muttered, “What the hell do you want?”
My heart fluttered. This was turning out just how I had hoped.
“I want to watch you.”
“Wh.. wh.. what?” she stuttered.
“I want to watch. That’s all. Once.”
She was too stunned to say anything for a moment. Then, composing herself, she said, “You need treatment, you little pervert. You want to watch you sister? God, you are a disease.”
She turned around to leave, and I said, “Please. I’ve never seen a girl. I’d like to watch. It will cost you nothing, and I’ll never say a word to anyone. You’ll get back what you want. Everybody wins.”
“No way!”
“I’ll tell Phil.”
“Bullshit. You wouldn’t do that.”
There’s no way I would tell Phil anything, but she didn’t know that.
“Okay,” I said, shrugging my shoulders and turning back to SportsCenter.
“You wouldn’t do that, would you?” she asked, her eyes pleading. It was all she could do to keep from acting like she was desperate. “I’ve never done anything to embarrass you.”
"Let me watch, and I’ll never say a word,” I said.
“Fuck you.”
“Okay, I’ll give you twenty four hours to change your mind, then I’m going to let Phil know. I’m sure he won’t repeat it. It’ll be a fun little secret between you.”
Her face turned red as she stormed out of the room.
The next day I had several jobs, so I left after Speed Camp with my mowing equipment, working my way around the neighborhood, doing the neighbor’s lawns. I knew my sister would be busy, and was happy to leave her alone in the house.
Sure enough, when I returned, I saw that she had gone through every drawer, cabinet and cubbyhole in my room. Nothing was undisturbed. I expected as much, and there’s no way I would have hidden her massager someplace so obvious. After I showered, I walked past her room to go to my room and saw her lying on her bed reading a magazine.
“Did you find what you were looking for?” I asked.
“Fuck you.”
“Six more hours,” I reminded her as I walked away.
Phil didn’t come over that night, the first time in a long time he’d missed a night. My sis must have had too much on her mind. As I was going to my bedroom for the night, I tapped on my sister’s door.
“Yeah?” she said.
I opened her door and looked in. She was sitting at her desk, doing her nails. She looked up and said, “What do you want, asshole?”
I said, “Time’s up. What have you decided?”
She blew on her nails to dry them. Surveying her work, she said, “Give me another day.”
“You don’t need another day. The answer is yes or no. What’s it gonna be.”
“Okay, yes. But not tonight. Tomorrow, when nobody’s home.”
I knew she was just stalling, but I also knew that there was no way she was going to find it, so I let her have her extra time.
“Okay, I’ll give you till noon tomorrow.”
The next morning, she said she didn’t feel good and was going to skip Speed Camp. She gave me the keys to the mini-van and I told her I’d give her lame ass excuse to her coach. I also told her I was going to hang out with my friends until noon. That would give her plenty of time to realize she wasn’t going to find the massager.
When I got back, it was obvious she’d gone back through my room, as well as all the bathroom cabinets, the linen closets, even the garage and the attic storage area. Over the last thirty six hours, she had left nothing unturned, looking under all the furniture, bookcases, everything. She had even looked through my parent’s bedroom.
“Have you decided?” I asked her.
“Yeah, I’ve decided. You can go fuck yourself.”
“Okay, I guess I’ll ask dad why that massager was in your bedroom, and why it smells like it does. Then, I guess I’ll tell Phil. You want me to let your girlfriends know too?”
She was crestfallen. Looking down, she said, “Please. Don’t do that.”
“I won’t if you let me watch. Just once. I’ll never bother you again.”
“No.”
“Okay, your choice. I’ll talk to dad tonight, and Phil next time I see him.”
“No, please don’t do that,” she pleaded.
“You know what I want,” I said, turning to leave.
I showered, then went into the kitchen to find something for lunch. Trish was in the living room.
“Okay,” she said. “I’ll do it. Where is it?”
“You sure?” I asked. “No tricks, I can take it away from you, you know. I’m stronger than you.”
“Okay,” she said, resignedly.
My heart fluttered. I was skeptical, but excited. Was it a trick? I damn sure hoped not.
“Be right back,” I said, as I went out to the car.
I came back in with the massager.
“It was in the car?” she said.
“Under your nose,” I answered. “Usually the last place anyone would look.”
She reached for it, but I pulled it away.
“Not yet,” I said. “Let’s go.”
She followed me up the stairs, into her bedroom. I plugged the massager back into the outlet next to her nightstand. When I turned around, she was standing in her doorway.
“Well?” I said.
“Why are you doing this?” she said. She looked like she was going to break into tears.
“Why?” I said. “I’ll tell you why. Almost every single night I hear you in here. I hear this thing buzzing, then I hear you moaning, and I know what you’re doing. It’s driving me crazy, hearing you but not seeing you. You do it all the time, and it’s all I think of. I want to watch you. Is that so hard to understand?”
“It’s wrong,” she said.
“I don’t care. I want to see. Show me.”
I set the massager on her nightstand and walked over to her. Putting my hands on her shoulders, I gently led her toward her bed.
“Show me,” I repeated.
I pushed down on her shoulders, and she sat on the edge ofTo continue reading this story you must be a member. Join for FREE here.
Haven
- 19.03.2021
- 23
- 0
- Category:
- Incest
