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Subject: Title story: ""StepSis With the Devilish Hands"" Author: INCESTOR 71455072
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Date: Sun, 02 Apr 2006 04:49:08 +0000
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StepSis With the Devilish Hands The first hand-job I ever got from someone other
than myself was from my stepsister who was about 5 or 6 years older than me. It
only happened once, but it's a memory that has lasted a life time. At the time
this took place, she was 18 I had just turned 13. My mom and stepfather got
married when I was twelve. At the time, my Mom and I lived in a one bedroom
apartment. My stepfather had also lived in a one bed- room apartment with his 17
year old daughter. At both apartments, the parent took the one bedroom while the
child took the living room sofa. Neither my mom nor stepfather were making much
money, and since our apartment was a little roomier than his, it was decided
that he and his daughter would move in with us until larger quarters could be
found. So for a few months, I found myself sharing a pull-out sleeper sofa with
my stepsister, Lynn. Lynn, who was seventeen when I first met her, she wasn't a
raving beauty by any stretch of the imagi- nation. In fact, she was rather
plain. She had dirty blonde hair, a turned up nose, and was somewhat plump. But
it was a whole new experience for me to have a stepsister. At first, it was
awkward sharing the same bed with another person. Just the idea of not having
all that bed space to myself took awhile to get used to I had slept by myself
all my life and I wasn't accustomed to having someone else sleeping next to me.
Any time either one of us shifted positions, it usually woke the other one up.
The fact that I was sharing my bed with a teenage girl didn't bother me at
first. At twelve, I hadn't developed a strong interest in girls even though my
body had been going through puberty since I was ten. I had not begun to
associate the changes in my body with sex yet, and I only thought of girls as
boys with different body parts. But after a few weeks of sleeping next to Lynn,
I began to grow curious about the female body. Lynn wore very little to bed.
Usually she wore a short and sheer blue top and just her underwear below. I
became aware of how her breasts would shake under- neath that blue top as she
moved about the living room before she crawled into bed. I was fascinated with
the curves of her body, and when I would try to peek at her breasts under the
top she wore, I could clearly see her nipples. The underwear she wore were
always cotton, very thin cotton. I hadn't quite figured out exactly what a girl
looked like down there, but I knew they had some kind of hole that a dick went
in when a man and woman wanted to make babies. Aside from that, I was pretty
ignorant what lay beneath her clothes. Because the sleeper sofa was so small, we
practically slept side-by-side. I often wanted to find a way to get a look under
her top at those boobs which I figured - looking back on it - to be about 36D's.
I wished I could also see under her panties, but I never had the nerve to lift
either her top up or pull the front of her panties outward to take a peek.
Sometimes in the early morning when the first light of the day filtered in
through the gaps in the curtain, there was enough light to see her as she slept.
I would carefully pull the covers down to see her in her scanty sleeping wear. I
would look at her tits as she breathed in an out. Sometimes her nipples would be
erect some- times not. I could see slight hints of her pubic hair beneath those
cotton panties, especially when she wore white ones. I slept as I had always
slept before I began sharing my bed with Lynn an undershirt and boy's briefs.
Looking at her always gave me a hard-on which I used to refer to as a boner back
then. I had been getting boners for awhile, but there didn't seem to be any
rhyme or reason to them. I just got them and had not been able to connect them
to any particular cause. However, since sleeping with Lynn, I began to relate
all my boners specifically to Lynn and was beginning to understand a little more
about sex. Though I never got the nerve to touch her in an inti- mate way, she
seemed to wind up putting her hands on me while she slept. Anytime she would
roll over, her hand seemed to find a way to land on top of me. The first few
times, her hand landed on my chest. That was about it it would just rest on my
chest - life- less. Then, whenever her hand rested on my chest, it would start
rubbing my chest in a slow, lazy sort of way. I assumed she was asleep because I
never detected any significant change to her breathing. As far as I knew, she
might have been dreaming that she was pet- ting a stuffed animal or something.
No matter it felt good, and often it was hard to sleep feeling her hand on me,
not to mention the fact that I had an erection pushing up against my underwear.
One night, as I tried to sleep with her hand on my chest, she moved her hand
downward. It just slid down past my stomach, brushed against my dick, and came
to rest on my upper thigh. The result of her hand touching my dick for just a
mo- ment, plus my awareness ...
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