Background:
I am Elizabeth.
Today, I am a happily married woman, age 27 with two small children. The story I am about to tell occurred almost exactly ten years ago, during my senior year in high school, within a year of my stepdad’s death in Afghanistan.
Events occurred that I did not plan, and I am not necessarily proud of. My husband, whom I adore, knows about these events, and not only understands, but actually finds them stimulating and exciting. He asked me to write and publish this story.
As I look back, ten years later, I both regret and cherish some of the experiences my stepbrother and I shared. I have often wondered if something can be wrong and beautiful at the same time. I think I have come to the conclusion that it can be. In a very real sense, this experience was both; at least to me it was.
I expect most of you will quickly decide that what my stepbrother and I did was wrong. You may, or may not decide it was also beautiful. I actually understand if you decide this was simply wrong. Remember, things are often more complex when you are experiencing them, than they might appear to an outside observer years after the fact.
I never met my biological father. My mother got pregnant in high school, and refuses to tell me any details of who my biological father is or was. I suspect that mom actually does not know. I suspect that she was involved with more than one boy, and is not certain whose seed grew inside her.
I was only four when mom married my step dad. My step brother, who is nine months younger than I am, was just three years old. Gary’s biological mother, Dad’s first wife, was killed in a traffic accident when Gary was a baby.
Neither Gary nor I really remember a time before we were together as family. We grew up together. And although we are not biologically related, emotionally, we are as close as siblings can be.
We lose our father:
Even before my stepdad was killed, it was pretty much just my mom, my stepbrother and me at home most of the time. Dad was a career military officer who spent extended periods of time deployed overseas. Since many of his deployments were to war zone areas, the rest of the family remained back in the states. We often lived in military housing, either on the base or immediately off the base
Dad was a good man, who loved his country and had a strong sense of duty. He truly believed that the actions of our military served to make the world a better place. Me, I am not so sure. But this story is not about political debates surrounding the U.S. military.
As a military officer, my father was a stern, complex man, who was difficult to get to know. He would pray to his God one moment; and then drink and cuss the next.
He also had a difficult time showing any vulnerability, emotional or otherwise. I know he loved us all; but at times he struggled with precisely how to show that love.
Dad was deployed in the original ‘desert storm’ and ‘desert shield’, and also served during the second Iraq invasion before being deployed to Afghanistan. We received word that Dad was killed shortly after my seventeenth birthday, the summer before my senior year in high school. His vehicle had encountered a road side bomb. He did not survive the attack.
The news of my father’s death was a devastating blow to me personally; but I seemed to be able to deal with the loss much better than my mother or my younger stepbrother. Mom fell into a bottle, became a heavy drinker, and was ‘passed out drunk’ most nights by eight o’clock. I felt sorry for my mom, but really did not know what, if anything, I could do to help her deal with this loss.
Gary had just turned sixteen at the time, seemed to take the loss very hard. Gary had been a good student, active in sports, and really never got into any trouble prior to Dad’s death. Before Dad’s death, Gary talked about attending the Air Force Academy and making the military his career, similar to his father. But his plans and his behavior changed significantly that summer.
Gary’s demise coincided with the news of Dad’s death, and I am convinced was a direct result of it. Since mom was not in any condition to help anyone most nights, I felt that it was my responsibility to help guide Gary through this grief and get him ‘back on track’, so to speak.
Despite my strongest objections, Gary quit the basketball team, where he had been one of the better forwards on the team. He also started drinking and smoking marijuana. Now neither of these are unusual or that horrific for teenage boys, but the change in Gary was clear and evident, and the direction he was heading was not good. Gary also made it clear that he was no longer interested in the military as a college choice or as a career.
On the other hand, although I felt a terrible loss, I decided the best way to ‘honor my stepfather’s death and life’ was to continue to be the daughter he wanted me to be. That meant continuing to do well in school, stay active in sports, and go to college as he and I had planned all along. It would be a tragedy that his dying in defense of America would lead to his own daughter’s future being derailed.
As you will read, if you elect to continue with me on my ‘stroll down memory lane’, is that I largely succeeded; but I did allow myself to get involved in something which I fear my stepfather would have strongly disapproved; my stepbrother.
At age seventeen, I was an attractive, budding young woman with a sleek, athletic build. I was captain of the girl’s volley ball team, and had a tall, slender figure with firm, perky breasts that were starting to develop nicely. I had a nice butt and long legs. I am not conceited about my looks, but these are just the objective facts. I had (and still have) a pretty face with blond hair and green eyes. I had a sweet, innocent, ‘wholesome’ look about me. Yes, objectively speaking, I was, and still am, quite pretty.
I was naïve and inexperienced with boys. Using the high school vernacular, I had never gone past second base. (Meaning no boy had touched me, nor had I touched any boy, below the waist.) I was more than just a virgin, I was an inexperienced virgin.
Truthfully, sweet, wholesome virginal girls, who seemed intent upon remaining that way, were not the most popular options for high school boys. I did not attract a great deal of attention from boys at my school. I was okay with this fact.
I see my first penis, and it belongs to my stepbrother:
About four months after my father’s death, I got an interesting and disturbing text from one of my best friends. It was about 9:15 p.m. on a Friday night in the fall. I was traveling back on the school bus with the team, after losing a heartbreaking volleyball game at a neighboring school. I received a text message from Jenna, telling me to call her as soon as I got back to school.
I assumed Jenna wanted to hang out tonight and I could not decide if I wanted to call her or not. I was pretty tired.
About ten minutes later I got another text from Jenna. This one said, ‘Call me ASAP. Important. About Gary’.
We were only a few minutes from the school and I was anxious and concerned. When we arrived, I immediately got off the bus and found a place where I could talk. I called Jenna, “What’s going on?”
“You need to come get Gary. He’s all fucked up. He is here over at Caroline’s parent’s house and he is drunk. He threw up all over himself in the basement. Caroline is freaking out because her parents will be home in an hour or so.”
“Oh shit. Goddamn it. I am going to kill the little twerp.” I thought about how to proceed. “OK, I will come right over and get him. Is he passed out?”
“I don’t know. I think he is awake, but he did puke all over himself. He is a mess. He seems a little better since he finished puking. He can walk a little and talk, just not too coherently. But you need to get him out of here before the parental units arrive.” Jenna laughed at the absurdity of the situation.
About twenty minutes later I was over at Caroline’s parent’s house. There were about eight high school kids in the basement, most had been drinking beer. Gary was sitting on the floor in the bathroom next to the commode. His shirt was missing, and there were stains of vomit on his pants. He stank of vomit and looked like hell.
“Lizard breath. You came to rescue me” Gary slurred when he saw me.
‘Lizard Breath’ was his pet name for me (Elizabeth, ‘lizard breath’; get it?)
“Damn it Gary, do you think I have nothing better to do than drag your drunk little ass around?” I was more than a little upset with him.
“Lizard Breath, cool your jets! If I wanted an ass eating, I could have had Jenna call mom. Just get me home, OK?”
“Come on, let’s get in the car. You are not going to puke in my car, are you?” That would have been over the line.
“I think I got that all out of my system already.” He said smugly.
Caroline spoke up, “Take that waste paper can with you. If he gets sick again, he can puke in that on the ride home.”
“Oh great, the upside for me tonight is I get to drive home smelling my vomit coated stepbrother. The downside is he pukes and I hope he gets most of it in the pail. Wonderful. Let’s go. Where’s your shirt?”
I was irritated that this was falling on my shoulders.
“Here it is” Jenna said as she handed me a plastic supermarket bag with the soiled shirt in it.
I opened the bag to look in and the smell was horrible. “Shit. This reeks!”
I sealed the bag quickly as I turned my head away from the smell. I realized that Gary did not smell much better.
We loaded Gary, shirtless, in the front passenger seat of my car, and I drove home, mostly in silence. Gary made a few smart assed remarks that I mostly ignored. As we pulled into the driveway, I said, “It is a good thing mom has probably gone to bed, or you’d be in for it.”
This evoked a loud laugh from my brother, “Gone to bed? Is that what you call it? She’s paralyzed drunk, passed out.”
“Gary, she is having a bad time of it since Dad died. Give her a break.”
Despite the fact that I was really pissed at my mom for not being stronger, I felt compelled to defend her.
“She’s having a tough time of it? What about me? What about you?” Gary was becoming a bit belligerent. I decided I did not need to argue with my drunk younger brother about my mom’s behavior.
“Let’s not fight about this. It appears to me that you lost your ‘moral high ground’ to criticize mom for drinking too much tonight anyhow.” I could not resist this final barb.
Gary was not so drunk that he did not see the irony and hypocrisy of criticizing mom for drinking in his current state. “Point taken” was his only response.
I helped steady him up the step to his bedroom. “Give me those pants and I will wash your shirt and pants for you before mom gets wise.”
Gary unbuckled his pants, unclasped the snap and pulled them down, along with his underwear. As he did, his flaccid penis flopped out.
I was shocked and amazed, “Jesus, Gary, I did not mean for you to strip naked.” I could not help staring at the six inch long flaccid penis in front of me.
“Hell, it’s not like you have never seen one of these before, sis” Gary said, stepping out of the legs of his pants, and attempting to hand them to me. Gary seemed to be completely at ease being naked right now with no pretense of modesty.
I stood there in shock. The truth was that this was the very first penis I had ever seen, but I certainly did not want to admit my inexperience to my younger stepbrother, who appeared to me much more experienced and worldly than his older sister at this moment.
“That’s not the point, Gary. You are not supposed to be showing your dick to your stepsister.”
But despite my desire to look away, I could not stop staring at my first real life viewing of a penis. I was mesmerized by its size, shape and color. The first thing I noticed was the distinct head that appeared to stand apart from the shaft. And the color was darker, almost purple; nothing like Gary’s normal complexion.
I must admit, I was intrigued by the cock exposed in front of me despite the fact that it was attached to my stepbrother. I was embarrassed and excited at the same time; but I could not stop staring. In his alcohol induced haze, Gary did not seem to notice my stare.
He shoved the pants and underwear, all wadded together, at me. “Girl, take care of my laundry, light starch on the shirt, press the slacks, have them back to me in the morning.” He joked and then fell backwards on to his bed atop the covers. As he fell back, I remember his penis flopping up and slapping against his lower abdomen, making a distinct smacking sound.
I slowly turned away, and started down to the laundry room, holding the ‘vomit soiled’ clothing at arms length away from me. But as I walked away, I realized that I could feel my pulse in my clitoris and my vagina was getting wet. The sight of my stepbrother’s penis was arousing me! I was embarrassed by my reaction, but I was reacting to this sight. And the image of Gary’s naked body, particularly his penis, was etched in my mind, firmly! I caught myself looking back over my shoulder as I exited his room, stealing one more glance at his naked body.
I started the load of wash. Then I looked in on my mom and determined that she was, in fact, asleep or passed out, depending upon your point of view. I went back upstairs. Initially, I was just going to go into my room, but as I ascended the stairs, I was drawn back to Gary’s room. The pull was too powerful to resist.
I am ashamed to admit it, but I wanted to see his penis again. So under the guise of checking on him to make sure he was OK, I knocked on his door, and opened it without waiting to be invited in.
Gary was lying on his back, naked on his bed, spread eagle. I had to admit that he had started to develop a marvelous body. He had muscular arms and shoulders; a well defined chest; a flat, tight abdomen; nice, muscular thighs; and a very intriguing penis. Although I had no other penises to compare to it, Gary’s penis seemed exceptionally large and thick compared to what I expected a penis to be.
“Are you OK?” I asked, looking for some reason to enter his room.
“I will be when you stop spinning the room.”
Gary had his arm across his face, shielding his eyes as he lay totally exposed on his back. With his arm blocking his eyes, I felt a bit more at ease inspecting my brother’s naked form. I noticed that his penis was twitching slightly, and seemed to grow slightly with each twitch.
“Well, the best solution to the ‘spinning room’ is don’t drink. If you dance to the music….” I quipped, trying to make small talk.
“Could we hold the lecture until the morning? I might even remember and listen to it then,” Gary asked, without removing his arm from across his eyes.
I decided he was right, and remained silent. I stood there studying his naked form for several moments before I grabbed a sheet from the hall linen closet, and covered my stepbrother’s naked form. I closed the door quietly as I left, and retreated to my room next door. I could not get the image out of my mind.
I undressed, donned my normal sleeping attire: a t-shirt and kept on my panties. And I climbed into bed.
Almost without thinking, I found my fingers moving inside my panties as I revisited the image of my stepbrother’s naked body. I was surprised at how wet I was. My reaction embarrassed me. I felt ashamed , but very aroused. I rubbed small circles around my erect clitoris, and I achieved an orgasm remarkably quickly. Normally it takes me 15 minutes or so to masturbate to orgasm. Tonight I got myself there in about three minutes. I was not proud of myself at that moment. But the orgasm was more intense than normal.
My self induced sexual release relaxed me, and I drifted off to sleep still thinking about that wonderfully erotic image of my stepbrother’s penis.
The next morning:
I awoke, went down and moved Gary’s clothes from the washer to the dryer. I was feeling some compassion for him, so I got a glass of juice and two Tylenol pills, and took them to him. Additionally, I am ashamed to admit, I did feel a magnetic attraction to try to sneak a peek at Gary’s penis again. I had my robe on over my tshirt and panties.
As I approached Gary’s bedroom door with the juice and Tylenol, I untied my robe and allowed it to hang open from my shoulders. I would like to claim I do not know why I did this; but that would be a lie. Something inside me, which I do not understand, wanted to expose my firm, and now erect, braless nipples and panties to Gary’s gaze.
I must admit, after being so intrigued by Gary’s body myself; I wanted Gary to admire my body as well; I wanted Gary to acknowledge, even if only to himself, that his older sister was developing a very nice body too.
I was not thinking about any physical contact between us; but I did want to demonstrate that I looked pretty damn good too. I wanted my stepbrother to know that he was not the only one with a phenomenally nice body in the making. As I said, I do not fully understand why getting an admiring glance from Gary was important to me. Why did I want him to notice my figure? I simply do not know; but I did.
The very thought of what I was going to do, and the vivid image of his naked penis caused my nipples to harden and my vagina to grow moist. I felt wicked, and that wickedness excited me. Up to this point in my life, I had been the perfect vestal virgin; untouched without having a single wicked thought or action.
I knocked on the door and, again, opened it without waiting for an invitation in.
“Gary, are you still alive? Here take this, it will help you feel human again.”
I walked in offering the juice and Tylenol. Gary stirred, and tried to open his eyes, but clearly was having trouble focusing. He was lying on his back, very much in the same position that I had left him in last night. The sheet which was lying over his naked form revealed a clear and distinct outline of his shape.
The very first thing that I noticed was the huge erection Gary was sporting this morning. The sheet did little to hide the size and dimensions of this rigid tool. I had never seen an erect penis before, and I was astonished at the apparent length and girth of this erection barely hiding under the sheet.
I handed him the juice as he struggled to sit up, and actually placed the two Tylenol into his mouth as he opened for me. Sitting up now, with the sheet gathered around his waist, his erection made a tent poking straight up. It was so obvious, it was distracting to me. Despite me intentionally looking away several times, Gary’s erection seemed to demand that my eyes return again and again to glance at the large pole sticking straight up straining at the sheet. I could feel myself blush each time I did so; afraid Gary would notice my fixation.
“Thank you, sis. And thanks for getting me last night. I am sorry I am such a pain.”
As Gary spoke, it occurred to me that he did not seem to be aware of his obvious boner.
“It’s OK. I’d say that ‘you would do the same for me’, but I think you probably would just leave me swimming in my own vomit in the basement of Caroline’s house!”
We both laughed at the thought. I turned and started the leave, not sure where this was going, and wanting to leave before my fixation with his erection became too obvious.
“Sis, stay and talk to me.” Gary got serious. “Do you miss him a lot?”
“Of course I do” I responded. “We all do. It is hard on all of us. I understand what you are going through.”
I paused and we sat there in silence, thinking about what we had lost. “But he would want us to go on and not ‘wallow in grief’. Dad would want us to use his death to motivate us, not to defeat us. He would want us to lean on each other now.”
I leaned in and hugged him, and he hugged me back. I could feel tears welling up in my eyes as I reflected on Dad and his death. This hug was affectionate, and not the least bit sexual or inappropriate. As I write this it occurs to me that was the last hug Gary and I ever shared that did not have some sexual tension. Holding him for those thirty to forty seconds, I felt the tears start to stream down my face. And I tried to regain my composure.
After a minute or two, I broke the silence, “Look, I don’t want to be mean; but your breath stinks. If you want to talk any more, you need to go brush your teeth and rinse your mouth out.”
I sat on the edge of his bed waiting for his reaction to my candid remark.
At the moment, an insult seemed to be the best way to move away from the emotional reflection on Dad, and move on to more normal discourse between Gary and me. But quickly I was reminded of the sexual tension of Gary’s nakedness, his huge impressive erection, and my unnatural attraction to my brother’s rigid penis.
“Ah sis, ain’t nothing but a little vomit. That’s all.”
Gary made a face feigning hurt at my comment, then continued, “I admit, my mouth tastes like a dog has taken a dump in there.”
Then he got up. He appeared to think about using the sheet as cover, but seemed to decide it was far too cumbersome.
“OK, sis, turn your head, and no peeking” tossing the sheet on to his bed and walked naked to the bathroom that he and I shared.
I turned my head slightly, and remarked, “After the show you put on last night, I think I have already seen everything you have.”
I could not help but peek as he turned towards the bathroom, his erection poking skyward. And as he walked past me, I could not resist I watching his firm ass as he walked away from me. He did have a wonderful physique. I felt so damn conflicted. I was attracted to my stepbrother; and I just could not help the magnetic appeal of his firm, muscular body right now. I knew this was wrong. I could not help it.
I listened from his bed as he brushed his teeth and gargled with mouth wash. As he returned to the bedroom his penis swayed proudly in front of him, still about three quarters erect, it poked straight out in front of him. Gary made no attempt to cover himself. His comfort being naked in front of me was peculiar, but exciting.
I was sitting on the edge of the bed, and I moved to sit ‘Indian style’, my legs crossed underneath me, as he returned. I knew that in this position, the thin cotton gusset of my white panties was all that covered my now very wet, very aroused vagina. I sat there aware that I was giving Gary a good view of my panty covered virgin pussy. I do not know why that excited me as much as it did, but it clearly did. I wanted Gary to look at me with the same lust and admiration with which I was looking at him.
His eyes went right for my panties as he walked across the room. I pretended not to notice, but his gaze thrilled me beyond belief. I am ashamed to admit that I was flashing my baby stepbrother, and I liked doing it. I could feel my vagina pulsing slightly and lubricating. I could feel the wetness leaking out of me. I wondered if the wetness was visible to Gary as he glanced at my crotch, looked away, and then glanced again. God this was such a rush. My face burned with a combination of excitement and embarrassment; embarrassment about what I was doing; and embarrassment at how exciting it felt to do it.
I thought I could see his penis arch up and grow each time he glanced between my legs. I liked knowing that my private parts excited him as much as his erection excited me. I looked with increasing admiration each time his penis would arch up and pulse under my gaze. It was a marvelous sight; one that I will never forget. I loved watching his penis slowly react to the ‘innocent’ viewing of my panties.
With each successive pulse, it rose slightly, and was now standing slightly ‘north of horizontal’. It was considerably longer and thicker than it had been last night in its flaccid state. I thought to myself, ‘the male penis is a marvelously interesting device indeed.’
Gary caught me looking and detected a bit of shock in my face as his penis stiffened. “I think you are peeking a bit there Liz”, he said boldly. But still he made no attempt to hide his throbbing cock. Clearly he was impressed with his own endowment, and not the least bit bashful of showing off. I guess my face betrayed my thoughts.
Gary quipped, “You look like you just saw a snake.” As he laughed at his own ‘witty comment’ his erect penis bounced wildly slapping his abdomen.
“Jesus, Gary. You are sporting one hell of an erection there. What gives?” I pretended to be completely unaware of my barely covered pussy played any role I might have in forcing him to sustain, and grow, his erection.
I made no attempt to cover up, or to end our little game. At this point, we were just involved in a slightly older version of the children’s game, ‘I’ll show you mine, if you show me yours’.
Wicked as it felt, I really believed this was harmless ‘show and tell’ exploration; nothing more. And I was learning things about the male anatomy that they simply did not teach in school.
“It’s just a little ‘morning wood’.” Gary answered. “George wakes up rigid every morning. It’s just part of the territory.”
Gary was obviously enjoying my shock, discomfort and interest. He certainly was not going to admit my exposed panties were playing any role in his arousal.
“You are kidding me. You wake up with a boner like that every morning? And you named your penis ‘George’?”
I was amazed at this revelation.
“How do you guys deal with those things, anyway? How do you even walk with those things?”
“It’s hard.” Gary laughed at his own pun, which triggered me to laugh a bit.
“It certainly is. How do you get rid of that thing? You can’t walk around like that all day?”
I was genuinely curious about the function of the male anatomy right now; but I was also aroused at this whole surreal situation.
“Well most of the time, I just work the ‘stiffness out of my joint’ manually, if I don’t have a female friend to lend a helping hand.”
Gary was testing me to see how I would react. Would I be offended and flee; or would I remain and discuss ‘morning erections’ with my baby brother.
I shocked Gary and me, “Let me see how you do it.”
I could not believe I had just said that. I blushed at my own boldness. I almost followed up with ‘I’m only kidding’, but something stopped me. I wanted to see if he would show me how he ‘relieved his pressure’. I felt my pulse quicken at just the very thought of Gary masturbating for me.
“Seriously sis? You want to watch me do this? Jack off?” His penis seemed to pulse up and grow bigger and more rigid just at the thought of masturbating I front of me.
I know I should have said ‘no, I was only kidding’. I know I should have left him to handle his needs in private. But I was mesmerized and aroused; very aroused. And I was not thinking straight. I really wanted to see this, to learn about how this all worked.
I tried to keep my voice calm. I tried to sound clinical.
“Sure. I have never seen anybody do that before. Consider it an educational demonstration for me.”
Hell, not only hadn’t I ever seen a guy masturbate before; this was my first penis to even observe in any state. It was certainly my first opportunity to witness an erect penis. But Gary did not need to know that.
“Are you sure you want to see me do this? Okay, you are not going to tell anyone about this, right?”
I chuckled at that thought.
“Of course not. Cross my heart. Who would I tell anyway? What would I tell them? I am being as bad and naughty as you are right now; maybe worse.”
With that he took his shaft in his fist and slowly stroked up and down, rocking his hips to and fro as he did it. He walked up closer to me, standing about two feet in front of me as I sat on the bed watching this demonstration with amazement. I could feel myself grow wetter as I watched my brother stroke up and down is long rigid shaft within arms reach of me.
I was captivated by the beauty of the purple head straining upward against his downward strokes. I could not help but wonder how a penis that long and that thick could ever fit in any girl’s vagina without tearing her open, hurting her. I quickly concluded that it certainly could not fit inside me without doing a lot of damage. The thought trying to accommodate such a large erection inside me both scared and excited me at the same time.
I had a major urge to reach down and touch myself. It took all my limited will power to resist that temptation. In my seventeen years on the planet, this was the most profoundly sexy education I had ever received. Today, I am a married woman with two children, and this memory is still one of the most erotic moments of my life.
Stepping forward, with his erection now inches from my face, Gary said, “Help me out here, sis.”
I looked up at him with lust and shock, “I can’t do that, Gary. You’re my stepbrother.”
Gary looked at me and seemed to sense the lust in my eyes. He seemed to sense my state of arousal. While still slowly stroking up and down his rigid pole with his right hand, he reached down with his left hand; Gary took my right hand and raised it up. Slowly, very slowly, brought my hand up to his rigid erection.
“Gary, we can’t be doing this” I protested verbally, but I allowed him to place my hand on his shaft.
I remember vividly feeling the warmth, and the weight of his engorged penis. It was firm, but incredibly smooth. The texture was like nothing I had ever touched before.
The sight and touch served to arouse me more profoundly than I have ever been before. God, I wanted to reach down and touch myself. I have never wanted to touch myself more. I knew I could climax almost instantly with even the slightest stimulation on my clitoris. But I refrained from doing that, from touching myself.
Even as I was telling myself and my brother that we could not do this, I willingly wrapped my fingers around him and felt the thickness of an erect penis for the first time. My fingers barely could encircle the entire thickness of his shaft.
After closing my fingers, I just froze, leaving my hand in place as Gary humped his erection in and out of my hand. The thickness, rigidity and weight of the erection all surprised me. I was simply unable to process the enormity of this event at the moment. I had never intended that my visit to Gary’s room this morning would lead to any physical contact between us. I knew my sexual curiosity, which had led me to looking at my brother, was totally inappropriate; but I never intended to actually touch him, certainly not masturbate him.
My entire world seemed to be moving in slow motion. And as absurd as it might seem, I felt as though it was not me, but someone else inside my body doing this. It felt as though I was watching myself from outside myself, and that I no longer controlled my own actions.
If it sounds like I am trying ‘distance myself from these actions’, perhaps even remove blame and guilt; well perhaps I am. Nonetheless, that is how it felt at this very moment, like someone else was holding Gary’s rigid cock, and I was an innocent bystander watching the events unfold.
Gary then took my wrist and started moving my hand for me, demonstrating what he wanted, or needed, me to do for him. After two or three strokes of my fist driven by Gary, he released my wrist and I continued to move my fist up and down, pumping his erection in time with his hips thrusting back and forth.
Involuntarily, I started rocking my own hips, and squeezing my legs together as I masturbated my stepbrother inches from my face. Gary’s movements became more pronounced, and more rapid. I found that my own rocking was now matching Gary’s pace. I was caught up in the most erotic and arousing experience of my young life.
Gary started moaning ever so slightly, “Oh, sis, you are getting me close. Oh damn, you are good. Oh shit.”
His comment sent a shiver straight through my own aroused loins.
I was squeezing my legs together tightly now, stimulating my erect clitoris between my thighs without directly touching myself. I did not understand what was happening, or why I was reacting as profoundly as I was, but I was caught up in the total eroticism of seeing and touching my first erection; and giving my first hand job. God, I was so friggin’ turned on; I actually felt dizzy with lust.
Gary moaned, “Liz, I am going to shoot”.
Before I knew what was happening the first long string of warm, white semen erupted from Gary’s penis, shooting through the air several inches, landing on my arm and t-shirt, barely missing my face. It shot out so suddenly that the white gooey substance seemed to simply appear in the air above the head of Gary’s cock.
The suddenness of the ejaculation, and the strength of the squirt as it shot from his erection caught me by surprise; and, to my amazement and shock, Gary’s ejaculation triggered my own orgasm!
Sitting there with my legs tightly squeezed together, I started to cum as I pumped his cock in my fist. Other than squeezing my legs together, there was no physical contact on my private parts; yet I managed to have a powerful orgasm; the most powerful orgasm of my young life.
“Oh, Gary, damn, oh….oh. God.” I moaned as the waves of pleasure quaked across me. My entire body shook and quivered as the waves of pleasure rocked though my vagina. I could feel myself spasm in wave after wave as my vagina seemed to open and close involuntarily forcing my lubrication to seem to squirt out of me, making the gusset of my panties very wet. It was the most intense response I had ever experienced.
Gary did not seem to notice my climax; he was too wrapped up in his own orgasm at the moment. I think he attributed my loud moan to my surprise at his semen erupting from his erection; not because I too had just cum.
Within seconds, the second eruption from Gary’s penis was launched into the air, this time landing on my thigh in a long white string of goo.
One of the most salient memories I have of that moment is the aroma of his semen. I had not expected semen to have any odor. I guess I never even thought about is. But the poignant scent that permeated my nostrils only served to increase my arousal and further embed this event into my memory.
I stopped pumping his penis for a moment.
“Oh, Liz, don’t stop. I am not done yet.”
He grabbed my wrist and motioned me to continue, which I did. Immediately a third string of semen shot from his erection; this one not as large, not as powerful. The third rope of semen seemed to dribble down my fist and down Gary’s shaft as I finished pumping him.
Suddenly, Gary grabbed my hand to stop me, “Okay, that’s enough. I am too sensitive now.”
I was astonished at what I was learning about how the male anatomy functioned. I was amazed at how stimulating it was to give my first hand job and to jack off my stepbrother to orgasm. But most of all, I could not believe I had a climax with no physical contact or stimulation at all.
I suspect most of the readers think I am exaggerating. You are probably think that I am making it up, or embellishing this story in some way. You probably think no one can reach a climax by merely squeezing their legs together. I assure you I did on that day a little more than a decade ago. But truthfully, it never has happened again to me. It is my one and only orgasm without direct vaginal or clitoral stimulation.
I was also shocked to learn how sensitive Gary’s penis became after a climax. It surprised me to learn that contact, which moments before was incredibly stimulating to Gary, suddenly became unpleasant as soon as he came. Yes, I was learning a great deal.
My heart was pounding in my chest. I was panting, trying to catch my breath. I held my semen covered hand out, not knowing exactly what I should do or where I should go to clean up.
I was in a state of shock. The enormity of what I had just done, understanding the magnitude of the sin I had just committed and the social mores I had violated had not hit me yet. I was still caught up in my post-orgasmic euphoria. I actually felt a bit intoxicated with it all. My head was truly spinning as I tried to process all of what had just happened.
I instinctively brought my semen covered fist up to my face to examine the precious ‘essence of male virility’.
Its white translucent color seemed to change as I examined it. It seemed to go from thick white, to a translucent, cloudy color right before my eyes. I wasn’t sure if my eyes were playing tricks on me or not. The entire experience seemed surreal. But my first exposure to semen remains one of my most vivid memories I have, even to today. I have been attracted to semen ever since that moment.
I smelled the sticky material; it definitely had a unique, and very distinctive aroma. An aroma that I found somewhat pleasant, but I did not know why. The scent seemed to connect with some deep primal instinct that I did not understand. But I liked the way Gary’s semen smelled; I liked it a lot.
As I was studying the gooey mess on my fist and wrist, Gary fell backwards on his bed, appearing to be exhausted, totally spent.
“Liz, that was the absolute best orgasm I have ever had. Thank you. You are wonderful. Can I do anything for you now?”
Gary ’s question shocked me back to the reality of what we had just done. A wave of guilt and embarrassment came crashing over me.
“No. This was a one time experience. We should not have done that. But I am fine.”
I needed to separate myself from this situation as fast as I could.
I looked at the mess of semen on my arm, hand, thighs and my shirt, and simply said, “I need to go clean up. You need to get dressed.”
I do not know why, but I decided not to tell him that I had climaxed as well. I needed to sort out my own reaction to this event before I could discuss it with anyone else. My orgasm seemed too personal to share with Gary right then. It would actually be a few years before I shared with him the fact that I climaxed while masturbating him that morning.
I got up, holding my hand and arm such that the semen on my hand and arm did not spill on the floor or bed. I felt the globs of semen on my thigh started running down my leg. “Gary, get me a tissue or a rag.” Fearful that I would drip semen from my leg on to the floor, I sat back down on the bed waiting for Gary to rescue me from this gooey mess that was ‘entrapping me’.
Gary returned with a warm, damp wash cloth and gently wiped the semen from my hand, arm and thigh. As he was cleaning my thigh, he slowly started to inch up towards my panties. I stopped him.
“No, Gary. We have already done quite enough; too much in fact. I need to take a shower. You need to get dressed. Mom will be awake and looking for both of us soon.”
I got up, and walked into our shared bathroom. Before closing the bathroom door, I took one look back over my shoulder to see Gary watching me; his penis slowly deflating. God, he did look good; but this was so very wrong, on so many levels.
What had I done? Why had I allowed this to happen? This was stupid and wrong. I felt a wave of guilt and shame come over me as I waited for the water to get warm.
Why are things that are so pleasurable and enticing so wrong; or why are things that are wrong so exciting and enticing? Damn, life was complicated. And I just made my life far more complicated than it needed to be.
I climbed in the warm shower in an unsuccessfully attempted to wash my guilt away.
Coming soon: Chapter two: the rest of Saturday …..dealing with my sin
Via: https://www.lushstories.com/stories/taboo/elizabeths-story-sexual-discovery-with-my-stepbrother