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Subject: Title story: "MY SISTER JEAN. Chapter 7" Author: TABOO MAN 60204958
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Date: Wed, 23 Nov 2005 00:02:35 +0000
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MY SISTER JEAN. Chapter 7 By Billy G Chapter 7 -- Jean's Backside Holding her
arms about my head, pulling me to her warm breasts, she remained quiet for a
little while and then murmured softly, "Billy, I've never done it, and as much
as I think I want to right now...I'm not ready." Her refusal didn't surprise
me. My asking is what surprised me. I didn't respond. She hadn't expected me
to. "And if I were ready, Billy...I'm not at all sure that I should be thinking
about doing it with *you*. Our fooling around - the stuff we've done - that's
enough for me now. I love you a lot and I don't want to do anything I'll really
regret." Then, as if to check-in with me, she leaned back and looked into my
eyes and asked, "Does that make sense?" Embarrassed at my impetuous outbreak, I
mumbled, "Yeah...I guess so...sure." And then with a little more feeling, I
added, "I wasn't really *asking* you to...to do it, Jean...I was just telling
you how I felt, that's all." That moment of discomfort - the fear of having
gone too far - passed quickly. Laughing, Jean climbed off my lap and then stood
there awkwardly, slightly bent, legs apart and looking down at the wet patch
than defined her bottom and part way down her bare legs. Pinching the edge of
her shorts between her thumb and index finger, pinky out, she pulled the
material away from her hip and shook her leg as she said, "Ech...doing it was a
lot more fun than sitting in it." Then, pointing at my wet lap, she giggled.
Jean laughs, she chortles, she occasionally guffaws but she doesn't giggle...or
at least until now. A giggle, a little girlish giggle is the best description
of the sounds she made as she pointed to my soaked jeans. We both dug into our
packs and slipped into some dry shorts. Ever watchful, I noticed that Jean
didn't bother with underpants. I was acutely aware that my soft-spoken,
conservative sister was climbing into the 4X4 wearing only a thin T-shirt and
hip-hugger shorts...already pulled up into the crack of her butt. "Nice butt,
Sis!" Looking back at me she smiled, "Glad you like it, bro. I got these shorts
with you in mind, but I didn't think I'd ever wear 'em." She stood there, one
foot inside the Scout, like mounting a horse, the step-up was so high. The
crotch of her shorts were pulled into her ass cheeks. Posing for a moment,
looking over her shoulder at me, she grinned that devilish grin that told me
all was not-as-it-appeared on the surface. My head tilted, as if to appraise
her better, I added, "You know Sis, your hips and butt may be your best
feature." Pulling her foot back down, Jean stood up straight. Or nearly
straight - she'd stuck her behind out a little at my provocative observation.
Still looking over her shoulder, she slowly bent her arms at the elbows and
hooked her thumbs into the tops of her shorts at the hips. She posed that way
for a long few seconds, palms toward me and fingers splayed. She looked at me
as if to say, "So, do you want to see more?" My obvious answer was a broad grin
as I vigorously nodded my head. Jean slowly pushed the hip-huggers down,
revealing by inches the mounds of her ass cheeks. She continued until her arms
were straight and the waist of her shorts cut across the mid part of her
buttocks, displaying the top part of her ass crack. With her thumbs still stuck
into her shorts and her fingers spread out - as if she were signaling someone
behind her - she remained posed...bent over just slightly, her arms and hands
framing her slim waist and the womanly flair of her hips. The sun was high and
in front of her, making a soft halo of her hair and casting deep shadows around
her ass. Two dimples I'd never seen before, accented the shadows. Certainly,
most delicious was her ass. I'd not really noticed before, but she'd obviously
been sun bathing wearing a thong bikini, for there was a narrow, white band
high across her hips and buttocks, with an inverted triangle of white ending in
the top of her ass crack. Her cheeks were tan as were her back and hips. The
small, untanned belt of white that ended as it dipped between her cheeks served
to accent the saucy prominence of her butt. "I hoped you were an ass man,
Billy. I kinda like my own butt." Then, fishing for a compliment, she asked,
"Do you like it? Do you think it's sexy?" Then, marching in place, she pulled
the tight shorts over her hips, wriggling to seat them properly before she
jumped into the Scout, yelling, "Hey, dude! Let's get truckin'...let's haul
*ass*!" She slid down in the seat, dissolving in gales of laugher at her own
pun. "Haul ass...oh, I'm terrible." More laughter. Jean's laughter is so
infectious that I found myself laughing along with her, thinking, "Boy, this is
fun and I'm not even sure what I'm laughing about." Adjusting my own shorts, I
settled again into the driver's seat. I checked her shorts and found that she'd
buttoned only the lower buttons, leaving the soft curve of her belly uncovered.
Back on the road, still relatively deserted, we sat silently for a little
while, making eye contact frequently and smiling. We both knew that there had
occurred yet another major shift in our relationship and were content to let
things unfold. Swinging onto a larger and busier highway, now out of the
mountains, I broke the silence this time and asked, "So, woman, what're *you*
thinking this time?" reminding her of her own gambit. "What'll you give me if I
tell you?" she countered. "Probably anything you want...but I ain't doin' the
dishes for another week, no matter what you're thinkin'." Then I offered, "Twenty-
five cents?" "A quarter?! That's all my thoughts are worth to you? Twenty-five
cents! Forget it." "Okay, okay. A half-dollar then, but you've got to do my
laundry for me when we get back." "I'll clean *your* laundry," she threatened
and then added, "Fifty cents and *you* do the laundry." Grudgingly and with a
little whine I capitulated, "Well-l-l, only if you hand me the panties you're
wearing...to wash of course." "You jerk! You know I'm not wearing any...I
watched you watching me. But all right. I'll give you my dirty underpants, you
. . . you pervert!" Ignoring the insult, I said, "Well, let's get back to the
topic." "What topic?" "Why, your butt. That's the topic. Remember?" "Oh yeah.
You were saying it's my best feature. Really think so?" Diplomatically, I
responded, "I like *all* of you, but...," and then I paused, waiting for her
recognition of my pun, "but". With a teasing frown she asked, "What do you
mean, but'? Or is that butt'?" accenting the tt' of butt. "In your case, Sis,
it's butt' or, if you will, ass,'" as I gave her my best Grouch Marx leer. She
continued to fish. "I can see why guys might like a girl's breasts, or her
legs, because...well you know...but," and she laughed at herself, "but what's
the big deal with a girl's behind?" Looking up to the heavens for guidance, I
shrugged and said, "Jean, I don't understand any of this sex-attraction stuff.
I've given up trying to understand it. It's just there. I feel it. I experience
it. That's all. I just accept that I'm a horny guy and I don't even try to
understand it any more. I like your butt...No, I *love* your butt . . . your
ass. I like to watch your hips roll and your cheeks move when you walk. I love
the inverted heart shape of your ass when you bend over. I adore the bottoms of
your ass checks when I see them below your short-shorts. I try to run the back
of my hand across your bottom when I pass behind you, pretending it's
accidental. The back of my hand is acutely aware of the soft dip between your
cheeks." Following such a strong start, I finished lamely with, "I don't
know...I just like em...and it gets me horny." A slight shift and lowering of
her voice signaled a serious question. I listened intently. Actually, I'd come
to listen to her with an intensity that was previously reserved for those times
when *I* was talking. "I've heard that some girls...er, some people do it that
way . . . uh...in the...you know...back there. You ever done it that way,
Billy?" Ass fucking? Was *my* sister talking about ass fucking? I was
thunderstruck. "Me? Me? You gotta be kiddin'...I've never done it *any* way!"
Flustered, she spoke rapidly, correcting herself, "Oh, I didn't mean...I didn't
think you had...I mean...have you ever *thought* about it...about doin' it that
way, I mean? Back there?" She squirmed in her seat, not looking at me. Had she
looked, she might have noticed *my* squirming. Whenever Jean hits my emotional
bull's eye, I start to squirm, and she'd hit this one straight center. Nailed,
as it were. Sure I'd thought about it...a lot...but I didn't think I *should*
be thinking about such stuff. (I was pushed around by those "shoulds" a lot in
my young life.) "Uh...yeah...I've thought about it...I mean, I've thought about
a lot of things." Uncharacteristically, Jean offered, "Me too. Tell me, what
did you think about...uh...when you thought about doing it back there?" Back in
my court again. (Well, Billy, get honest. She's making it easy for you...and
*you* were the one trying to get her to talk dirty'.) "Gee, Sis...I don't know
what to say...where to start... but, yeah - I've thought about it ever since I
saw one a Dad's European dirty magazines. It had lots of pictures of people
doin' it...in the butt I mean. Since then, I've thought about it a LOT." "You
have? I mean, you've actually *seen* pictures of it? Wow! I've only heard about
it...I've never seen a picture of it. Can you show me? Gee, I'd give anything
to see some pictures." Jean's enthusiasm once again put me at ease. I'd swung
from being hesitant about revealing one more kink and now here she was, more
open about it than I was...and now I was swinging back to self revelation.
"I'll either find Dad's, or I'll get some from the adult book store, Jean.
Actually, I used to have a bunch, but I traded them for the peeing magazines
that you discovered," and added with chagrin, "... in my most secret hiding
place." "Oh, bitte, bitte, bitte," Jean singsonged her Germanic entreaty.
Plunging in again, I asked, "Is *your* ass erotic, Jean? I mean, have you ever
touched yourself there...uh, does it feel good if you do touch yourself?" (If I
could ever learn to finish as strongly as I start...) Jean stared at me for a
long moment. He pale blue eyes glinted. She ran the tip of her tongue over her
lips, wetting them and, as always, my eyes were drawn to her mouth. Did she
have any notion how erotic her mouth was? I thought not. But this was not some
affected look, not some pretend stance. Jean's interest was intense and real
and hright now. Licking her lips a second time, she started slowly, "When I was
a kid - (and that could be any age less than she was that day) - when I was a
little girl, I got sick and had a tummy ache. Mom decided I needed an (ugh)
enema." " Phu-leeze, Mother. I don't need an enema,' I cajoled." (She loved
that word too.) "Well, you know Mom. I was protesting all the way to the
bathroom. God! I thought I'd die of embarrassment. I knew no one was home but
me and Mom and I was still dying. But Mom showed me no mercy. Over her knees,
pajamas down and K-Y to the butt - so fast I couldn't respond. Can you imagine
that?" she inquired as it were the most impossible image in the world. My
fertile - read dirty - mind didn't have any difficulty at all in imagining
that. "Yeah, Sis, I can imagine that." Not even pausing, she continued, "Mom
slipped that hard nozzle into my butt...burrr...it was cold...but you know, it
didn't hurt at all! I just knew it was going to hurt like the dickens and it
didn't hurt at all. That really surprised me." Now, for the first time since
starting this story, she grinned at me and went on, "No, what really surprised
me was that it...it felt good!" And again she asked the rhetorical question,
"Can you imagine that? I couldn't. I mean, sticking something up your
butt...how could *that* feel good...but it did, Billy, it did." "I remember..."
I started to say but she continued, interrupting me. (Oh, now I get it. *She*
wants to talk.) "Then, before I could even switch mental tracks, Mom started
the warm water flowing. She had ran the hot water tap in the bathroom until she
got the temperature she wanted and then filled that huge water bag. Then she
added something else from a bottle...I don't know what it was...and that's what
I got. I could feel the warmth flowing through me. Mom must have done this when
she was a nurse, 'cuz every time I started to get a cramp, she seemedm to know
it and clamped the tube. I'd rest a few moments, and she'd start it again. I
was embarrassed and frightened and mad...all mixed in with the confusing
feelings of liking the warmth and the fullness. I didn't know what was going
on." Jean took a big breath and then through pursed lips, blew it out slowly,
looking out the window for a moment. I knew enough to keep quiet. Turning back
to me, she continued, now a little slower. "I don't know how much she gave me -
felt like gallons - but it probably wasn't . . . anyway...when I was all filled
up I thought I was going to lose it and must have whimpered. Mom said, 'Now
hold it. Hold it in. I'm going to pull out the tube and I want you to lie down
on the rug for a minute...just relax, okay?'" "And I did...or at least, I
didn't...you know, lose it or anything. I'd forgotten how silly I must have
looked, lying on the floor with my pj's around my knees and my fanny uncovered.
All I could think of was how full I felt and trying to keep myself clamped shut
. . . so I wouldn't...uh...dribble?" (She ended with her interrogative
inflection again.) "And behind all that, there was a funny, sexy feeling." The
direction of this conversation was getting to me. My dick was stiffening again.
Just listening to Jean's story of her enema had me hot. Thinking of her cute
butt and her rosebud asshole, filled with water...well...I *told* you I was
kinky! She continued, "The need to have a B.M. got stronger and stronger,
Billy. I told Mom I was going to have an accident if I couldn't go soon, so she
let me get up and sit on the toilet. "Now, you must know that *no one* - since
I was a baby - had stayed in the room with me when I moved my bowels, but I had
to go so bad I probably wouldn't have stopped if *you* had walked in." (As if I
was the bathroom equivalent of the Queen Mary cruising through.) Running her
hands up the inside of her thighs, she opened and then closed her legs. She was
clearly warming up to this story. She rushed on, "It was one of the most
delicious feelings in the world, Billy. Just letting myself go and expelling
all that water... whew...it was like pooping and peeing and even coming...all
at the same time. "I'm sure I got all red in the face...from pleasure I know
now, but Mom asked, You okay?' I just couldn't tell her how okay I really was!"
Now she laughed. "Don't think I'm a closet enema freak, brother dear. I've only
had a few in my life...but maybe not as many as I'd like. Anyway, that was the
time when I realized that my behind was sensitive...I mean, like erotic, you
know?" Sensing that she had touched on the main part of the story, I spoke
again and asked, "Well, I can see that it excited you. Did you then start
thinking of...butt fuckin'?" "Billy, most of the time I don't like that
word...fuck... or fucking...but when I'm talking with you...it has a juicy edge
to it and it's okay. And yes, that's when I started thinking that if a enema
tube felt good, then a finger or even...it's hard to say - even a dick would
feel good...or even better." "We're just alike...we're two peas in a pod, Sis.
We both like peeing and now we're finding out that we *both* like anal things."
She looked at me, one eyebrow arched as if to say, "Oh, is that right?"
Hurrying to explain, I added, "I haven't had an enema or anything, but I've
wondered about it." Then, not looking at her, I went on, "Once I took Mom's
enema nozzle - do you think it was the same one she used on you? - I took her
nozzle and slipped into my own ass. I was sitting on the toilet. I had just
finished looking at one of Dad's dirty magazine - I'd sneaked it out again -
and I was wondering how it would feel to me . . . having something up my butt.
So, I got the nozzle, put some K-Y on it and pushed it in my behind...slowly. I
don't know what it was . . . maybe just the thought of it...but anyway...I got
a boner right away. I jacked off, and like always, I was thinking of you, Sis .
. . thinking of your ass while I was doin' it." There! It was out. Now Jean
knew her perverted kid brother ass-fucked himself with a goddamn enema nozzle
and fantasized about her. My face felt warm and I couldn't look at her. "Oh,
Billy...that's hot! That really gets me wet...hearing what you did...and that
you thought of me while you were doin' it too. Wow! You are somethin'."
Emboldened again and ever pushing, I asked, "So, tell me, my erotic
sister...are we going to explore this new wrinkle...anal sex...or what?" I
suppose it was idiotically tautological to add, " I'm game. Are you?" "God, who
knows with you, Billy? Every time I think I've gone just about as far as I'll
ever go...with you or anyone, you sorta nudge me along and before I know it,
I'm right in the middle of something I didn't plan on." She placed her hand on
my arm and added softly, "But Billy, you *know* I not really going to do it
with *you*...still I'm open to talk about it with you." Continued Tomorrow
End
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