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Bil·dungs·ro·man
ˈbildo͝oNGzrōˌmän,ˈbēldo͝oNGks-/
noun
1. a novel dealing with one person's formative years or spiritual education.


Chapter 1
The Cardellos

“Probably because when I was twelve, I watched my uncle fuck my sister Katie like five different ways till Tuesday, and then I lost my virginity the next night fucking her the exact same way.”

That was my answer, after deliberate thought, to the question, “How did you become such a fantastic lay?” posed by Lucy Spellman not two weeks ago as we sprawled in post-coital bliss on the fold-out in my tiny apartment’s living room. The August night’s humidity oppressed us- a cinderblock-supported box fan rattled and swirled warm air rather than cooling it, occasional traffic and drunken nighthawk bellows floated through the smeared windows, and the sheets, twisted and damp, lay crumpled at the foot of the bed. I sat up, flared a Camel, and inhaled contemplatively as Lucy understandably peppered me with questions. Perspiration dripped into my eye; I rubbed the sting. This fucking oppressive heat: I despised it. But every year these sweltering laconic days, when the Dog Star is situated in the Western Hemisphere’s sky, eventually prompt a fond recall of my gnarled explosion into sexuality that summer all those years ago.

Lucy finally punched herself out with the questions and I continued drawing on chain-lit cigarettes in silence, grinning. I enjoyed tantalizing her. Seeing that she needed to change tactics, Lucy finally nestled into the crook of my arm and said, “Well, Jesus- ” and playfully slapped my stomach- “aren’t you gonna say anything, Ben? That’s some heavy shit to drop on a girl after you fuck her brains out and then just not say anything.”

I stroked dirty blonde strands of sex-tossed hair from her sweaty brow and my gaze drew upward toward the branching fissures in the sagging, chipped plaster ceiling. A smile crept at the corners of my mouth, as it always did when it was the second week in August. I lit another lung dart, rested the ashtray on my stomach, and began to weave the following tale in an effort answer questions that you just might now have yourself.

______________________________________________________________________________________________


To properly get to that moment with my sister, and more likely to feed my twisted ego and force you to serve as some kind of the****utic sounding board to my damaged sexual psyche, I have to go back 6 days before the incident with Katie. I just entered my teens in August in the late 80s and was about to get called up from AA elementary ball to the 7 and 8th grade AAA middle school league at the end of the month. My body had changed drastically over the course of two and a half months, transitioning from a pipsqueak to the beginnings of my final adult-self. My voice was now creaky and wonky and cracking at all the wrong times; I had shed my cute, cherubic cheeks, and I sprouted hair where there was no hair before. Eating like a starving yak and running around the neighborhood all day had provided about 4 inches in height and added about 10-15 pounds, most of that being lean teen muscle. My balls, descended and swinging, now stuck to my leg in the summer heat. Morning wood was a daily, almost painful occurrence. It was awkward getting accustomed to these rapid changes. Puberty, you gotta love it.

Most significantly, I had suddenly developed my life long infatuation with the other half of the population: Girls. Women. Chicks, broads, dames, ma’ams and madams! Young, old and in between. Anything with boobs and a butt! You name it, I was suddenly transfixed by it. I couldn’t believe they had been there the entire time and I hadn’t noticed how soft and pretty and sexy they all were in their own special individual ways. They had just appeared to me at the beginning of June. I mean, I’d had crushes on cute classmates and a teacher before, and had French-kissed several girls and got to over-the-shirt, passionless second base playing Truth or Dare, Spin the Bottle, and Seven Minutes In Heaven at birthday parties and Friday night roller skating. It had been fun and I liked it and wanted to do it whenever possible, but now my thoughts had a deeper, more physical urgency I’d never before experienced; a “want to” that morphed into a “need to” overnight that was becoming more and more difficult to manage. I was getting desperate.

But I didn’t a girlfriend to coerce into giving me the required release, never even came close to having a steady one that would even make out, and the only thing I knew about Onan’s dirty habit was that, according to Father Dell at St. Mary’s Sunday school, masturbation was a filthy sin that could intern me to eternal damnation if practiced even just once. I mean, I knew how sex worked and that I needed to put my dick in a female, but I just didn’t see how I could make that happen in the situation I found myself no matter how much scheming and wishing I did. I was isolated with no cash, no resources, no job, no prospects and no game even if there were prospects. I wouldn’t know what to do if a willing female was right in front of me. All I had was a constant throb in my pants and a sudden unhealthy, preoccupation with the chick on the Land O Lakes butter box in the refrigerator to the point I got semi-hard whenever my mom made toast. So I tried to ignore the inferno in my pants. I just thought that’s the way it was for dudes until they got married or lived with someone. I didn’t even know about orgasms really or that there was so much more to sex than just what I’d seen in the PG movies I was allowed to watch.

Fuck you, I was naïve. You were never young? Don’t judge me. At least for that. There’s plenty more coming on which you may pass judgment.

The perverted narrative finally begins on a searing Monday afternoon. The black sealant of my then best friend’s driveway melted and clung to the bottom of our Pony hightops as we lazily shot baskets in idle, humid afternoon air. Horseflies buzzed our control towers, ragweed and pollen almost seemed visible. Mark and I bickered over our ninth excruciating game of HORSE. We were at each other’s throats and on each other’s nerves because I was kicking his ass with my newfound strength and outside shot, and, well, we were just sick of each other. There weren’t that many k**s in our grade level in the neighborhood, and being restricted to a ten-block bike radius by our folks, Mark and I, because we both liked sports, were stuck with each other. Every day. No way we would around with those chess club and band k**s, which I was to find out within the hour, weren’t the huge nerdy dorks I thought they were.

These were the days before play dates and organized, Soccer-Mom fun. Staying home wasn’t an option unless it rained or you were puking your guts out. Every summer morning, after a bowl of Froot Loops and a rerun of Three’s Company, I was chased from the house at precisely 10 AM by my mother and unleashed on our suburban neighborhood, charged with creating my own fun with the strict parental edict to just “not bother anyone.” It’s amazing what you can get away with if you’re quiet about it.

During our twelfth and mercifully last game of HORSE, Mark’s next door neighbor, Devon Cardello, emerged from the garage of his family’s four-bedroom ranch home in dark blue swim trunks and a striped beach towel slung over his shoulder. He was sixteen with dark feathered hair and his short stocky build served him well as a member of the high school wrestling team. I envied the definition in his biceps and calves and the accompanying strength. He climbed the ladder to the dinky, deckless 20’ aboveground pool in the Cardello back yard and paused when he noticed Mark and I teeming with sweat, staring like hungry hounds at the pool and its refreshing contents. Devon looked at his house and then back, just staring at us. He then grinned and shouted, asking us turds if we wanted to go swimming. Both Mark and I hesitated, not because we didn’t want to go swimming, we wanted to very much, but because it was rare that Devon even glanced at us, much less was nice to us. I sensed some sort of trap, or, as I always did with Devon, an ulterior motive. But Mark knew him his entire life and the prospect of cooling down in that brutal haze would’ve lowered anyone’s apprehensions. My friend dropped the basketball, cut through the gap in the bushes and stripped to his trunks.

Devon said, “Atta boy, Markie!” and then to me, “You coming in, Covington? Not afraid of water are you?” He dove ungracefully into the pool and Mark followed.

I wasn’t as quick to join. Devon, you see, for lack of a better word, was an asshole. I’d always been a target of his bullying and ridicule when he still played football and wiffle ball with us because I was the smallest and youngest in the neighborhood, who also lacked an older brother to regulate shit when Devon’s violent power trips went out of hand. He tackled me during two-had touch, punched me playing freeze-tag, and he’d wrestle me to the ground and target my crotch with wrestling moves after a double play- always the fucking crotch with Devon. He was definitely twisted and liked making people feel uncomfortable and let them know that he was in control, that he had the power. But the sound of the filter clearing the cool, crisp chlorinated water was a siren’s song too strong. Plus, I was bigger now and hoped Devon would be more human and not as interested in torturing me now that I wasn’t so puny. As it turned out, the douchebag ended up being really cool that afternoon. For a little while. To me, at least. Devon flexed his control over someone else that day.

After about fifteen minutes of obligatory aboveground pool grabass- jumping, whirlpool, backflips underwater, front flips underwater- and saying, “I dunno” to Devon’s myriad questions concerning my fifteen year-old sister Katie’s current and past boyfriends and what she was doing that afternoon, we got bored. There’s only so much you can do in a Flintstone’s k**die pool on roids. Luckily, we’d find something else to do that I had never done before.

These were small lots in this neighborhood and the pool was only like 10 feet from the house, if that. So close that you could talk to someone through the den window at the back of the house. And this is where Devon’s little sister Mandy appeared.


“What’re you guys doing? Mom said you’re not allowed to swim until you weeded the garden, Devon.”

Mandy, fifteen years-old, was two grades ahead of me, and I’d never really given her much thought until that day. She had this kind of squeaky, nasal, and at times piercing and whiny voice that I’d always found annoying. She was rather thin, gawky and not exceptionally cute or pretty and usually was just in the way whenever Mark and I were playing war or something in his backyard. She hadn’t developed as fast as her classmates and could’ve been considered just an average girl. A real chess and band and track nerd that I never paid any mind. Sara-Plain-And-Not-Even-Tall.

But oh, Mandy had my attention now. I wasn’t the only one who developed that summer. Mark’s neighbor and Devon’s little sister now sported pert, plump round little breasts straining against the fabric of the tiny triangles of a bright yellow bikini top. Perky delicious B cups yet to be affected by gravity and the only thing between them and me was the skimpy canary yellow material of last year’s swimsuit, close to being outgrown. Despite my best efforts of checking out the clouds, the water, that little floaty thing with the chlorine pellets- anything- my eyes kept working their way back to Mandy’s newly sprouted cleavage almost involuntarily. I swam up to the arc of the pool closest to the window and rested my arms on the metal edge running the circumference. This action did two things: it gave me a better view of Mandy, and, in my sex-fogged thirteen year-old mind, it was somehow a preventive hiding measure because I had just felt the tell tale blood rush in my crotch that announced an imminent hard on.

“Hey, Mandy,” I ventured my voice cracking. She ignored me.

“Fuck that.” Devon jumped on a pink inflatable raft and put his hands behind his head. “Too hot for that shit. Besides, Mom and Dad won’t be home until 6. I got time.”

“But Mom said- ”

“Hey, you know what? Fuck you, Mandy. You’re in no position to be telling me to do anything. We still haven’t finished from this morning. Remember? Once a day for two weeks?”

Once a day? What once a day? I was confused.

Mandy crossed her arms over her burgeoning chest and shot a dagger of a look at Devon.

“What?” he laughed.

She glanced at Mark and me and then widened her eyes at her brother and growled through clinched teeth, “Devon. Shut. Up.”

“What?” Devon asked again in a snide, teasing voice. He splashed Mark and me, who were just floating, trying to figure out what the hell these two were talking about. “They won’t care. C’mon, it’s Mark and Benjy. Fucking Mark and Benjy, Mandy. They’re like your brothers too.” I had been a fixture on Mark’s street for years and was like one of the family.

“Devon, just please shut up.” There was a plaintive tone to Mandy’s falsetto twang. “I’ll do the gardening for you, okay? That’ll square us, right?”

Devon laughed. “Fah, like hell it will. I’ll do the fucking gardening and any other chores I have to. You’re not getting out of this.” Devon stood fully upright in a way that was meant to be menacing. It kind of was. He said, “Now show us.”

Mark and I glanced at one another and shrugged. What did Mandy owe Devon? What did he want to see?

Mandy, only visible from just above her belly button, put her hand on her hips and cocked them. “Why are you doing this, Devon? You’re embarrassing me.”

Devon got off the raft and rested his arms on the metal edge next to me. “Because I’m an asshole, Mandy, remember?” When his little sister didn’t change her expression, he then said quietly, “Because, it’s really turning me on, thinking of them watching. You like it. You know you do. C’mon. Please.” There was a pleading tone to what he said, tender and vulnerable. I’d never seen or heard of Devon Cardello begging before, and I would’ve probably given it more thought if I weren’t just then thinking about how Mandy’s hair, dark and frizzy from chronic chlorine and sun exposure, lent her a wild exotic aura by the way it framed her long dusky Mediterranean features and fell over her shoulders.

Mandy made that sound of disgust unique to teenage girls worldwide- a sort of simultaneous snort and pshaw. “You’re such a fucking pervert,” she said, “Dad would kill us, Devon.”

Her voice wasn’t as shrilly; there was less conviction, which started to make me feel unusual in an anxious and not unpleasant way. I was witnessing something private. I’d never spied or snooped before, but after that day, the appeal would start to make sense. The older brother and youngest sister of the Cardello family talked liked Mark and I weren’t even there. I was honored and humbled in an odd way that they’d trust me in this manner. This was what intimacy was. I was charging up for something exciting and mysterious and unpredictable.

“Dad?” Devon said switching gears from beggar to bully. “Dad finds out about you and Steve McMasters the other night and you’re fucking dead. You want to bring Dad up?”

Mr. Cardello was known as a neighborhood hardass. Rarely seen or heard, the stern, devout Catholic wielded his parental authority from his living room recliner with swift and brutally long sentences. It wasn’t uncommon for one of the four Cardello c***dren to be put on ice for up to a month for something as minor as missing trash day or not mowing the lawn when it was his or her turn.

Mandy sighed in resignation. “You’re such an asshole.” She leaned her head against the screen of the window, peering left and right to make sure nobody else could see. She tucked her chin to her chest muttering, “Can’t believe I’m doing this.” She reached behind her neck and fiddled with something.

She brought her head up, and shook it to toss her dark, bushy hair past her breasts and over her summer-brown shoulders. God, I love a good hair flip. The strings dropped from her neck. Their weight first caused the right bright yellow triangle of the tiny top to fall away and then the left, exposing Mandy’s brand new, pale, budding teenage breasts. The bright sun and screen and dim interior of the house prevented me from getting a clean look, but I could make out dark nipples the size of dimes centered amid tiny bright white triangular patches of pale skin popping against her tawny Italian-heritage skin.

ZANG! Right to my crotch. Like the Grinch’s heart on Christmas, my cock grew three sizes that day. My mouth ran dry. My first tits in real life and not in some dad’s poorly stashed Playboy. Holy shit, they were magnificent. Something in my stomach sank and then leapt and then sank once again. Over and over. More powerful than a flutter, a dark dangerous and thrilling piston pumped, combusted by some kind of thrilling, conflicting fuel mixture of desire and conscience. Like I said, I had just officially entered puberty only a few weeks before and had experienced erections that could be considered “doozies,” the ones that are almost painful, but once I saw Mandy’s nipples and look of smug satisfaction on her face as she drank in our desirous, wanton stares, my dick shot up into the waistband of my swim trunks. A skinny, 5’5” teenage girl was in control for that moment. She knew it. I knew it. And it was hot as shit.

None of us said peep; a sixteen year-old, a fifteen year-old, and two thirteen year-olds, all of us well beyond our ages in that moment, all of us on the threshold of a life-altering experience, sat in a silence as thick with tension and adventure as the air was with still humidity, all of it topped with a hearty dollop of shock. I had never imagined something like this would happen or even could happen.

Devon smiled at us with a did-you-see-what-I-just-did look on his face and elbowed me. I ignored it. Mandy, her arms akimbo, appeared to enjoy our rapt attention just as much as I enjoyed the view. We were all silent for about a long minute.

Mark then kind of freaked out. “This is wrong,” he said and splashed toward the ladder half swimming, half running. “We shouldn’t be doing this.” He couldn’t even look at Mandy in the window, whom he’d known his whole life, who was like a sister to him. He fumbled out of the pool. “Ben, you coming?”

I couldn’t answer. I barely heard him. I was transfixed by teen tits and tan lines. My cock throbbed.

“Your parents wouldn’t like this,” Mark shouted over his shoulder. “If you don’t come now, don’t come again.”

I wasn’t really feeling Mark at that moment, and anyways he always was kind of a priss. I just knew that it was better that he left because if he’d stuck around something wouldn’t happen. What exactly that something was, I didn’t know. But I was glad to be rid of him. Something could now happen, and that was important. All I could muster was, “I’ll call you later,” but I don’t think he heard.

The pool filter droned, robins tweeted, dragonflies buzzed. Mandy’s nipples, in all their bubbly splendor, breathed. Finally Devon said, “Can’t see anything with you in the house. Get out here.”

Mandy made a face and another sound of disgust and appeared to roll her eyes behind the screen. “Eww, no, gross.” She retied her bikini top and disappeared into the darker recesses of the ranch house.

Devon pushed off into a head-above-water backstroke, shaking the integrity of the pool’s rickety aluminum walls with a thunder-like reverberation. He said, “Not bad, huh?”

I turned around to face him, spreading my arms on the edge and floating my legs forward, trying to be casual, acting like I’d seen guys’ sister’s tits all the time, hoping my waning hard-on wasn’t obvious. I still couldn’t talk because the spectacle of Mandy’s tiny brown nipples set in those pale triangles of skin which were in turn set in her tanned skin was seared into my brain.

“Don’t worry. She’ll be out,” Devon said. “Caught her and Steve McMasters almost doing it on the den couch last week.” He laughed. “Actually, she caught me peeping in the hall mirror right when she was straddling him and I made it seem like I caught them. My dad would kill her. I’ve been making her do stuff since.”

I nodded with cool understanding. Stuff? What the fuck was stuff? Mandy and Steve McMasters, who was 17 and lived a few blocks over? My whole perception of her changed so rapidly and so far from what I had originally thought, it was hard to deal with. But that was the least of it. My head swirled. I knew this kind of thing Devon was hinting at was wrong, really wrong. Like perverted wrong. Bad. My conscience, normally very clear and decisive, was a muffled cry deep within. I thought about getting the hell out of there. But as the fresh memory of Mandy spreading her frizzy hair to reveal those luscious ripening tits looped continuously in my mind, I couldn’t blame Devon for wanting to explore his sister’s body. My desire to see if Mandy would come into the pool and the hormonal ravages of onset puberty trumped my conscience and fear. So I waited with a kind of nauseous anticipation.

She finally appeared on the ladder and stepped on to the top step, towering over her brother and me in the water, offering a terrific low-angle view. Her bright-yellow manicure and pedicure matched her bikini and stood against her tanned skin just like the latter. Proportions and the cut of the tiny swim suit gave Mandy’s torso, starting to muscle, a long look and her legs, now toned by years of running school track and long-distance, an even longer look. She had slim defined quad muscles noticeable only as they flexed when she climbed the ladder and, though I could only see a bit of her profile despite swimming closer, a tight ass so sculpted that the slim yellow band connecting the rear of her bikini bottoms to the front didn’t touch skin the entire way; she had that lovely subtle concavity on the side of her upper asscheek that only comes with habitual exercise and defined glutes. Who knew this was all hidden beneath the argyle socks, tweed knee-length skirts, and blouses buttoned up to eleven the whole time?

The wind picked up and Mandy’s dark unfettered locks, normally in a weird side pony tail thing, whipped, exposing her now much more visible chest in the sunshine. When she arched her back to tame her hair behind her head, a slight outline of ribs on her long torso appeared. A slight scoop above her firm round ass gave her the look of taunting someone in the distance behind her with her butt. A bit of pale skin poked out from the bottom of each part of the tiny bikini bra as it stretched with her movements. All of this crushed me. I wanted to grab her so badly right then. My erection roared back and made for my eyebrows. I tried to adjust my trunks but the way the mesh lining rubbed against the bottom of my dick sent electric shocks through me, making things worse.

“What’s up, pervs?” Mandy had a different look now. She didn’t seem as disgusted and descended the ladder facing us. She quickly dipped down to her hips, but squealed and moved back up a step so that her now wet teen vagina hovered just and inch over the water line. “It’s too cold! No way I’m coming in,” Mandy said in a coy little voice.

She was being flirty now, which I found very arousing. Chilled, Mandy clinched her thighs together forming a perfect triangular patch of yellow bikini that burst out against her caramel skin and struggled to contain her teen pussy mound and slight cameltoe. Rivulets of water, starting at her outtie bellybutton, branched into tributaries and streamed down her tight stomach and the “v” of her developing abs, down over the tiny, now slightly see-through yellow bikini bottoms, down past an almost imperceptible outline of wisps of curling pubic hair above two matching tiny pussy lips, down it trickled onto the water’s surface.Triangles still turn me on to this day- sexiest basic shape there is. Seriously, look at a chick in a skimpy bikini next time. You’ll just see hot little revealing triangles and half circles. Erotic geometry. YIELD signs get me hard.

Devon splashed his sister. “C’mon, it’s not that bad. Don’t be a sissy.”

“Devon! I swear to god!” Mandy complained in a kittenish voice. Small tears of water running down her body undulated over the goosebumps that broke out over her now cool bronze skin. Two tiny persistent nipples poked and strained against the thin yellow Lycra fabric of her bikini. She was so firm.

“C’mon,” Devon said. “It’s not that bad once you get in. Just like every time.”

I was screaming in my head, “Get in the pool, Mandy! Get in the goddamned pool now!”

Mandy wrapped her arms around her and feigned shivering in 95-degree weather.

“C’mon,” Devon said again in that tender voice. “Get in. I’ll warm you up.”

“Are we seriously, gonna do this?” Mandy asked. They were talking like I wasn’t there again.

“Yeah,” Devon waded up to her and grabbed her hand trying to lead her into the water. “Why not?”

She resisted. “Whaddya mean why not? Devon, we can’t.” She bit her bottom lip and tucked a strand of hair behind her hair. “We can’t.” Her high-pitched voice was softening again.

“What is it? Ben?” Devon must’ve waved toward me but I all I could focus on was Mandy’s slim dripping-wet body and that bright lemon bikini. “He’s cool now, right, Ben?”

I didn’t hear because Mandy pulled her hand away from her brother, put it on her hip, and shifted her weight. The front waistband on the bikini ran just under her prominent pelvic bones only half an inch from the dark strands of visible new pubic hair. I heard a throat clear and I looked up to see Mandy watching me stare at her cameltoe and her glistening brown athletic body. She cocked an eyebrow and while still looking at me, answered Devon: “No, it’s not him. I don’t mind Ben.” She twisted a strand of hair playfully.

That engine in my chest, nuts and guts throbbed along with my dickhead when she said that. God, there was something about the confidence in her gaze that caused my cock to expand even more.

“It’d be weird if Mark was here though, I guess,” Mandy said and giggled.

I knew, fucking knew, Mark’s leaving would be a good thing! Watching her change from Devon’s bitchy annoying little sister into, well, I didn’t know what, was titillating and arousing. This rapid transformation of my perception of this girl was thrilling both emotionally and especially physically. I continually fought the urge to try jerking off for the first time right there in the water in front of both of them.

“Well, what then?” Devon asked. “What’s the problem?”

“We’ll get caught,” Mandy whined. “Remember two nights ago when Mom was walking to the bathroom?”

“Well, they’re not home now, Mandy.” Devon stood in the pool and spread his arms toward the surrounding ambient noise of idyllic suburb USA. A lawnmower droned. Little k**s, k**s maybe even my age or a year younger, laughed a few blocks over as they innocently played Red Rover Red Rover. “Who’s around? We won’t get caught. Promise. C’mon.” He talked quietly now, almost whispering. “You’ll love it, what we talked about. You know you will. Come on. Please.”

I still wasn’t exactly sure what “it” was, but I really liked the sound of “it.” Mandy’s defenses seemed to dwindle which only increased my anticipation.

She girlishly swished her shoulders back and forth and then smiled mischievously. “But I’ve never done it before. You know that.” She bit her finger and looked from me to Devon.

He reached up for her hand again and she let him take it. Devon, now almost whispering, said, “It’s okay. Ben hasn’t either. C’mon. I’m always gentle.” His thumb caressed the top of her hand. “Ain’t I? Come on. You’ll love it. Didn’t the other stuff feel good?”

Mandy thought for a moment, reliving some memory, then a rigidity, a certain tension that she carried, even at the fucking bus stop for school, melted from her shoulders. The corners of her mouth angled up. “Okay,” she finally said and dove into the pool like a coffee colored dart wrapped in bright banana bikini. Submerged, the lean muscles in her taut ass and thighs flexed and unflexed in slow motion as she scissored her legs with every stroke around the pool, what little fat she had on her body undulating almost imperceptibly in the water. The pale unsunned folds of her ass cheeks poked from the back of those canary yellow bikini bottoms, a striking contrast against the rest of her dusky skin. Her tight tiny ass crack gobbled up the thin Lycra material with every snap of her legs, creating a sharply defined wedgie.

She surfaced facing me about 3 feet away and then leaned back to dip her head in the water to slick her hair from her forehead and eyes. As her chest thrust forward doing this, I caught eyefuls of the matching slivers of pale skin poking from her tiny bikini tops. Her round chestnut eyes lent a look of doe-eyed look of innocence. But at the same time she also looked somehow years older because her wild, unkempt hair was now under control. The conflicting feelings tossed my stomach excitedly. This was not the Mandy Cardello I knew and overlooked.

Mandy asked me quietly, “Did you like what you saw in the window, perv?” she batted her lashes, so long and curved that droplets of water suspended in them and fell as she blinked. As I was contemplating what an idiot I was for not noticing this hidden treasure sooner, she screeched. Her big brother tugged her under water with some wrestling hold. “Devon! No!”

They twisted and twirled under the water and glimpses of Mandy’s browned, shiny wet flesh surfaced and disappeared. She finally emerged, facing me again, wiping water from her eyes and giggling. Devon surfaced behind her. He reached forward and ran his hands over her pelvic bones, and up the side of her torso. A deep sigh escaped his sister’s lips. Her brown nipples protruded through the yellow bikini top, trying to break free. She lifted her elbows to allow Devon’s hands more room to caress her sweet, small tits and she locked her eyes onto mine. God, her stare. He kissed her neck. The sound of the small, slow pecks and her increased writhing stimulated me even more. She leaned back into Devon and hugged behind her, drawing her tighter to him, her teen ass pressing his crotch. She moaned sweet little high-pitched squeaks that grew in volume the brisker Devon’s caresses and kisses got. It was like I wasn’t even there despite being about a foot away from that i****tuous foreplay.

Mandy tried to turn but Devon reached her shoulders and spun her back toward me. “No,” he said softly. “Don’t. We can’t. We can’t do that. It counts if we look at each other.”

I couldn’t concentrate on the perverted and delusional rationality of that statement just then because Mandy locked eyes with me again as she wormed and twisted with bliss. I just stood there, chest deep in the cool swirling water, my erection about to run out of skin. Some stashed away Sunday school hang-up still prevented me from reaching down to address the urgency in my swim trunks, I guess.

Devon untied the string at her neck as he planted more little pecks on her ear. The bikini fell away again offering a close up view of those dime-sized, olive nipples. I wanted to reach out and cup her left tit in my right hand and suck on those pencil eraser areolas but Devon held both of his little sister’s nipples between his thumbs and forefingers, gently pinching and rolling them. Mandy, whose nasal and squeaky voice was now turning me the fuck on, groaned in such a throaty way while staring at me that I almost came right there.

“Do you like it? Doesn’t it feel good?” Devon whispered in her ear, “Isn’t it great?”

Mandy barely answered. She could only nod and moan. “Uh-huh. Uh-huh,” she said dipping her knees repeatedly so that her ass ground up and down into her older brother’s crotch.

This was all so fucking new to me. I had had fantasies before, but they were always about kissing girls or feeling the lacy material of their bra in the movie theater. Again, I hadn’t even had an orgasm at this point. Never seen porn. This was a HUGE leap forward toward sexual avenues and vistas my almost-teenage mind couldn’t fathom. Not only was it sex, which was foreign and intimidating, but it was some dark fucking, expert-level sex. Something bad, yet something oh so good.

Devon ducked under the water and Mandy shifted and giggled. He re-emerged and a pair of dark blue swim trunks and skimpy bright yellow bikini bottoms floated to the surface. I was now the only person in the pool with trunks on and felt a little overdressed. He positioned himself behind his sister again, grabbed her hips and pulled her toward him, taking her off her feet. She said, “Oops,” and reached out and grabbed my shoulders for balance.

Mandy’s mouth and eyes exploded into surprised O's that grew with every centimeter of Devon's dick sliding into his little sister’s pussy under the water. Her high-pitched voice dropped two octaves again when she gave out a long guttural groan of contentment. “Oh, oh, oh. It’s so big. Go slow.” She inhaled. “Uh, Go slow.” Sharp inhale. “Oh, god-uh-go slow. So big.”

“Oh god,” Devon said. “I can tell you’re fucking wet even under the water, you fucking slut. Fuck, that feels good. I knew you’d feel good.”

Once her brother was fully inside her and started slowing pumping, Mandy threw her right arm around my neck and yanked me toward her. She pressed her forehead to mine and I felt her entire body rocking with every thrust from Devon. She bit slightly on my bottom lip and sucked it, breathing heavily but rhythmically. Fuck, I just let her. My lips didn’t respond at first, but then the wet plump of her bottom lip and cool tongue cranked my libido up even higher. I reached out to finally touch my first breasts ever but she moaned in by mouth, her breath rushing over my cheeks, lips, and chin, "No, don't. Please don't touch me." That confused the shit out of me and I couldn’t tell if she was in pain or pleasure, but I kept my hands to myself and just returned her passionate kisses. “Oh god, Devon. Oh god,” she whispered. “Uh-not so fast. Oh god, that’s it. Uh-uh-uh. Oh my god, does it feel good. Go slow, Uh-uh. Slow, uh-uh-uhuh.”

“It feels good, doesn’t it?” Devon whispered in her ear. “God, I told you so. Fuck, do you feel good.”
“Mmmm-hmmm, mmmmm-hmmmm,” she agreed with pleasure.

Mandy then, with her free hand, reached under the surface and caressed the shaft of my cock through my bathing suit and the lining. I couldn’t believe this! It was the first time my dick had been touched for sexual reasons. Again, I’d never whacked off at this point of my young perverted career. What a way to start!

Now Mandy’s voice was back to its high-pitched squeak. Like a tiny bird she whispered chirps with every thrust from her brother, trying to keep her ecstasy a secret from the neighbors. Every, “uh, uh, uh,” sounded like “peep, peep, peep.” She tugged on the string on my trunks and brushed my dickhead, now sticking way out of the waistband, which sent pangs through me so sharp and unexpectedly that I froze for a second. I finally moved by pulling my swimsuit to my ankles awkwardly. I’d never skinny dipped before, but the freedom of swimming naked was like the 128th ranked new pleasure I’d experienced that day. Number 1 in the AP and Coach’s poll was coming soon.

Mandy grabbed my dick shaft with one hand and bunched a wad of hair on the back of my head and ground her forehead to mine again as Devon worked her harder and faster, holding her so her feet floated behind his thrusting butt. It was so hot as she tried to speak between each satisfied moan. “Get-uh-on-uh-the-uh-ladder-uh, Benjy,” she whispered to me.

Devon said, “Yeah. Get on the fucking ladder,” and we all shifted, Mandy leading me by my submerged cock toward the ladder like an obedient dog on a throbbing leash. I boosted myself onto the top flat step of the ladder’s apex right at the pool’s ledge so my legs hung down in the water. I looked around panoramically to check if anyone else witnessed this spectacle of i****tuous, u******e, teens-gone-wild sex or if they could even entertain that such a dark thing was occurring just a few houses away. But if anyone did happen to look, like a neighbor or, worse, Mark’s mom, it would appear from a distance that one teen was sitting on the ladder having a close conversation with two other teenagers in the water. Who would ever contemplate it was anything else? Those elements of deception and danger quivered my air-drying erection.

Devon said, “Jesus, Covington. That thing is huge,” and pointed to my dick stationed at a smart 45 degrees, the tip an inch from Mandy’s bobbing freckled, aquiline nose. You could hang elephant hides from it I was so engorged.

“Huh?” I asked.

“Your unit. It’s fucking huge. Like a fucking corn cob.”

“Fuck-uh-yeah-uh-it-is-uh,” Mandy managed.

“Really?” I asked. I had never had made a comparison before so I didn’t know. In the past two months I had gone from wee-wee to schlong and hadn’t realize it. So that was another good thing I learned that afternoon. Again, way down on the list of great things to emerge that day, but I am well endowed. Like porn star big. It wasn’t as big as it is now, but not much smaller either.

Mandy grabbed my shaft and wiggled it as her body continued to rock with Devon’s pumps. She tilted her head from one side to the other, examining it with girlish curiosity, fascinated. I could see her making mental comparisons of my cock to her brother’s. Devon rammed harder so that water splashed louder and louder. He repeated, “Suck it, suck it, suck it. Suck his dick like you sucked mine, you little slut. Just like that. Just like I showed you. I wanna see it. I wanna see it.”

And that’s when Mandy wrapped her lips around the head of my cock and I almost exploded. Holy shit did it feel wet and warm and wonderful! Her technique was insane, and I’ve been trying to get my many partners to replicate it over the years, but it’s never as good as that first time is it?

Mandy held her mouth around just the tip for about 5 seconds and then slowly lowered until her lips slid just past the ridge of my trembling dick head; she stopped for a few seconds; she sucked; she ran her tongue along the underside of the head and then raised up again so that I was almost out of her mouth but never escaprd. She’d do this five or six times and then deepthroat me and gag a little about 10 times. Delight coursed throughout my body. She kept repeating this technique, which was so skilled considering how mindful she she was of my dick while being railed doggy style by her brother. Her cooing noises, muffled by my rod, and her look of simultaneous pain and pleasure as she stared at me while her brother fucked her was almost as hot as her mouth and tongue expertly exploring the bulbous tip and shaft of my hard pulsating cock. Almost. I couldn’t believe how tender yet primal this whole experience was turning out to be.

Devon kept saying quietly, “Fuck yeah, Amanda. Fuck yeah, you fucking slut. Fucking suck it. Suck it. You wanna fuck Steve, you’re gonna have to fuck me first. Me or Dad, me or Dad, me or Dad?”

Mandy talked around my cock in her mouth: “Uh-uh-uh, woahwkay, Wevon, whoawkay, whoawkay, uh, uh.” I could only take this sumptuous typhoon of multitudinous erotic sensations for about two minutes before the back of my mouth went completely dry and an approaching thunder pealed in my chest. Hell, I’d probably nut in about 5 minutes today if I were in the same scenario; I can’t believe I lasted as long as I did that first time considering how carnal it was. Mandy continued to bob her head and was now rocking back into her brother slowly and rhythmically as he rested from his feverish pumping and guided her with his hands on her bony hips. Her athletic coordination was on display the way she could manage all this at once. Mandy was a closet slut. A total natural. Who the fuck woulda thunk it?

My pulse thumped throughout my entire body. My toes, thumbs, and tongue all in sync with the throbbing, building rhythm- a spontaneous coordination of limbs and organs working toward a synchronous total body experience. Something amazing was coming. The hazy sweltering landscape, impossible to ignore just 20 minutes prior, disappeared from my periphery. The only thing I could see, hear, and feel were Mandy’s lips running up and down my cock and her slightly dangling B cup tits barely jiggling with every pump from her older brother, her slurping, her soft grunts, the water splashing, and the buds of her tongue glazing over my dick, respectively.

Devon picked up his pace again. “Does it hurt? Does it hurt? Huh?” he growled his eyes locked on her lips sliding up and down my roger.

“Oh…god…Dev-uh-on…Dev…Dev…uh…uh…uh…not so…hard, not-uh-so-uh-hard. Oh, god. That’s-uh-it-uh. Oh-uh-god-uh. That’s it-uh. Just-uh-like-that-uh. Oh, Dev-uh-oh, Dev-uh, oh Dev-uh.” The contrast of Mandy’s tiny voice versus the confident authority of her directions was such a fucking turn on. I started to moan as a buzzing frenzy welled inside me and my full-body pulse quickened.

Mandy then removed my cock from her mouth with a smack of her lips. She pressed her mouth beneath my throbbing head and said over my rod, “Oh, my god. He’s so fucking huge and hard right now. That means it’s about to burst, right?”

“Oh, fuck yeah it does,” Devon said. “Jerk him off. I wanna see you make him burst like you make me.”

She giggled like a little girl and ran her hand up and down my shaft. “Uh-uh-uh,” she panted. “Are you gonna burst for me? Will you let me see it, Benjy? Are you gonna burst like Devon does?”

Then she stopped and looked up at me with those doe-like almond colored eyes. She bit her bottom lip while smiling playfully.

“What? No,” I gasped in a whisper. “No, no, no. Don’t stop, don’t stop. What’re you doing?” I whined. “Please don’t stop.”

That look, drunk with power and control, the look Mandy had displayed when she first flashed us her tits, was back. She obviously loved the attention she was getting and got off on knowing she was sexy and desirous and in command of the ship. Her tongue narrowed to a point and she ran the tip under and around every part of my head, making figure eights. She then slid it slowly up my frenulum and started licking it in a pattern I couldn’t make out. She giggled and said with her tongue out. “Nam nannin mnah mname.”

I said, “Oh god, what? Huh?”

Mandy pulled away and tee-heed. “I said I’m signing my name.” She then went back to her penmanship lesson.
I groaned, “Oh, fuck,” at how casual and playful she was being in this moment of utter seriousness for me. Mandy showed me, that first time, that you’re supposed to have fun when you fuck and let your inhibitions go, a valuable lesson that has served me well during my sexual conquests.

She eventually dotted her I’s and crossed her T’s and then slowly slid her tongue up to my dick hole and plugged it with the tip. “I guess, oh god, Devon. Well, then I guess, oh, uh, uh, you better answer my question then, huh, Benjy? If you want me to get you to burst?”

I started stroking my dick myself for the first time in my life. Fuck Father Dell and burning hellfire. I couldn’t help it. The sensation was certainly nice, felt good, but paled in comparison to Mandy’s adroit tongue and mouth. It took me a second to remember her original question. “Oh, god. Yes. I’m gonna cum for you. Just do it. Please.” I wasn’t sure what the hell cumming exactly was but I was pretty sure it was about to happen. I was ready to take a murder rap for that chick as long as she’d just fucking bring this swelling throughout my body to completion.

“Uh-uh-uh, mmmmmm-hmmmmm, that’s better,” Mandy whispered and began stroking my cock again. It didn’t take long after that for the most amazing spasmodic eruption. It boiled up from my feet to the top of my skull. That pulsing thunder within my chest grew louder and louder and louder and closer and closer and closer spreading faster and faster and faster. My tongue went numb. My eyes shut and my head whipped back. I gripped the side handles of the ladder. Spasms of ecstasy wracked my body. HOLY SHIT FUCKING HELL!

My first shots hit Mandy’s long eyelashes on her right eye, her nose, and her right ear. The hardest spurts hit her lips one, two, three times. She cooed a tiny surpised, “oops-oh,” with every spurt. When I finished and tried to refocus on the world, Mandy gently continued stroking my cock and said, “Oh my god, Benjy. That’s so much,” as a wad of my semen dripped from her eyelash to the corner of her mouth. To this day, I still haven’t ejaculated as much as I did that first time.

By this point Devon gripped Mandy’s shoulders and really started clobbering her. Other strands of my first ever load wiggled and ran down her face. “Oh fuck, that was hot. I’m coming too, I’m coming too,” he groaned. “Oh fuck, I’m coming too. Do it, Amanda, Do it. Hurry up, like before. Do it! Like I showed you.”

Devon’s little sister pulled away from him and then dunked herself under water. Her tiny tight ass breached the surface: a pale tiny half moon shaped tan line stenciled on copper teenaged skin. Her muscles flexed as the back of her head bobbed at her older brother’s crotch under the water. He grabbed a yank of Mandy’s hair and thrust her head up and down up and down. He finally wailed, “Oh fuck.” His back arched as his body shivered with orgasmic pulses. “Oh-oh-oh-oh, take that. Oh-oh-oh take it, Mandy.”

Devon’s little sister came up for air and tilted her head back into the water to slick her unruly hair back again. Her fucking perfect brown nipples extended toward the afternoon sky one last time that day. She stood upright again, giggled and opened her mouth; her brother’s jism drooled from the corners of her mouth and down her chin. She gurgled out, “It’s so much, you fucking perverts.” She spit the wad into the pool and the current created by the filter drew it closer to the intake. There wasn’t enough chlorine or chemicals in the world to clean the taboo filth the water witnessed that day.

I panted and started to come back to reality. I think we all did. What the fuck had just happened? It was terrific and all, but was it right? Had I just been a part of something fucked up, something irrevocable? Had I permanently damaged myself? And did I even care if I had? I contemplated this in awkward silence as I dipped back into the pool to retrieve my suit and the three of us rearranged our swimwear. Watching Mandy put on her tiny canary yellow bikini top, the elastic shiny Lycra of her suit wrapped tightly around her round perky tits and those lively budding nipples was almost as hot as watching it fall away in the first place. To this day, I still love watching women, after a spirited romp, repair themselves and become human again by rewrapping undergarments and clothes and fluffing hair and reapplying makeup.

I finally said, “I, uh, I gotta go. My mom’s waiting for me.”

Smiling, Devon waded over to me and held out his hand to shake. I hesitated but then reached for it. When I did he wrenched the back of my neck, snapping me forward and submerging my face. Devon held me there for what seemed like months. The chlorine stung my eyes and I struggled, but he was still much bigger and much stronger than me; back then, three years made all the difference. He pulled me up, and as I was gasping for breath, he shoved my face back under for another 15 seconds. He finally raised me by the hair and whispered in my ear, “If one word of this gets out- ” he shoved me toward the ladder and then smiled sweetly and sickly as I rubbed the back of my neck and coughed- “well then, I’ll know just who started such an ugly rumor. Now get the fuck out of here, Covington.”

I glanced at Mandy but she was kind of hunched guiltily on the far side of the pool and wouldn’t return my look. So much for any kind of connection with the Cardellos or a potential girlfriend. Nah, these people were fucked up and I realized I needed to get the hell away from that volatility despite the potential for further sexual delights. The going had been good, real good, but I could tell it wasn’t going to get any better, only weirder and worse. I had known that I was pressing my luck; how did we not get caught? So I booked before I got into real trouble, and never really communicated with Devon, Mandy, or Mark for that matter, thereafter. Not that I hung out with the Cardellos to begin with, so it was no real loss with them, and Mark and I had been drifting apart for a while. We all ran in our different circles and maybe nodded to each other in the hallways at school. Maybe.

Everything had changed that day. It was all so strange and such a fucked up way to be introduced to sexual pleasure. On a happier note, I did, however, end up becoming a regular and the girl’s track meets. God, they had nice legs.

I walked home dazed that sultry afternoon a new person. I couldn’t remember how I thought my day was going to go when I woke that morning, but having my first serious sexual encounter and orgasm with Mandy Cardello as her older brother fucked her doggy style in their parents’ pool was probably the farthest thing from my mind. I was now sexually aware, brimming with a newfound confidence and the confused new owner of a dangerously hazy set of moral boundaries.

______________________________________________________________________________________________



Lucy stroked my cock in silence for a while as I finished the first part of my story. Finally she said, “Jesus. That’s really fucking hot and disturbing at the same time.”

“Yup,” I agreed and stubbed out a butt. “Don’t ask me where they are now. I’m not even on Facebook.”

“No, I’m serious.” Bed springs creaked as she got up on all fours and put her face close to mine. I loved the way her heavy tits undulated when she did that. I reached out and cupped one and pinched and rolled her nipple idly, just like Devon had showed me. This reminded me of the next part of that week of sexual awaking. She moaned a little and said, “Like, I’m really fucking turned on but kind of repulsed by you right now, but not really. Does that make any sense?”

“If you think that’s was something,” I said and got up on my knees so that my growing dick was right in front of her nose, “wait’ll you hear the rest.”



To be continued…



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