Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 Author: JojoMojo
Title: Flying High - 2
Part: 2
Universe:
Summary: A young boy discovers more about the pleasures of mutual
manipulation at the hands of his big sister.
Keywords: f-teen/b, ped, mast, anal, cons
   The following is completely and without a doubt a fictional account, 100
percent fantasy.  That said, as I write, I reflect on the things that I
experienced as a child, what felt good and what did not.  Those experiences
had a profound effect, and for the most part, I look back on them fondly.
   Caring, fun, ecstasy is what I'm interested in, for all involved, or
it's not worth doing or writing about.
   Thanks to a friend who shared his memories that became the seed for this
story.  I love stories that are rooted in real experiences.  I've tried to
write this from the perspective of an elementary school boy, using terms I
remember from my growing up where ever possible.
   Note to the reader: This is the second story in a series and while I
think it stands pretty well on its own, you may want to read the first
story, Flying High.  Check my webpage: https://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/JojoMojo/www/
   FLYING HIGH - 2
   by JojoMojo
   (f-teen/b, ped, mast, anal, cons)
   He was flying...  again!
   This time he wasn't dreaming.  His feet were firmly planted on the
floor. But in his mind he was flying high and fast, piloting the fighter
jet clasped in his fingers.  He swooped it high over his bunk bed, then
banked hard to line up with the Hot Wheels track runway he had laid out on
the floor.
   He was so engrossed in his play that he barely heard his mom talking to
him from the doorway of the room.  "I'm taking your brother to the doctor.
Afterwards we'll do some shopping," she said.  "Listen to Andrea and don't
give her any trouble.  Understand?" She waited for him to respond, but he
was busy "refueling" his jet, oblivious.
   "Look At Me!" she said in a louder voice, breaking abruptly into his
world.  He looked up at her, surprised, wondering when she had come into
his room.  His little brother was at her side holding her hand, looking at
him as if he was daft.  "Do you understand?" his mother asked again, slowly
forming each word as if she was talking to someone who was hard of hearing.
   He had no idea why she was asking, but nodded his head vigorously.  With
his acknowledgement, she turned on her heel and tugged his brother's hand
as she walked out of the room.  He was immediately lost in his play again,
the sound of the front door closing and the car pulling away distant noises
at the edge of his consciousness.
   He had barely finished the refueling when he sensed someone else in the
room.  He looked up expecting to see his mom again and was surprised to see
Andrea.  Something about the look on her face made him stop and drop his
jet to the floor.
   She was leaning against the door jamb looking at him thoughtfully, dark
brown eyes still soft from sleep.  He took a moment to study her.  She was
in her standard sleeping attire, a long t-shirt that hung half way to her
knees.  Her straight dark hair was pulled back into a pony tail, several
strands had escaped the band, still mussed from a night of sleep.  Her arms
were crossed beneath her breasts, which pressed against the thin fabric of
her sleeping shirt.
   As his eyes stopped on those breasts, his mind wandered back to the last
time he had seen them, a couple of nights ago.  As he stared, the nipples
hardened, pushing out the fabric, almost as if they felt his stare and were
beckoning him.  He could feel his wiener stir in response.
   His eyes drifted down her torso, filling in the curves he knew were
hidden beneath the oversize t-shirt.
   Later in life, remembering those times, he had pulled out an old photo
album to refresh his memory of Andrea at that age.  He first found pictures
of himself at eight and nine.  Even with the faded colors obscuring the
details he saw a someone from a different time.  In the photos a typical
boy cavorted, dirty blond hair cut short, a little skinny, of medium
height; in shorts and a white t-shirt, scuffed Converse All-Stars that at
one time had been white.
   Paging through more photos, he was surprised how young she looked.  His
memory of her at that time was of a "grown-up" much older and wiser than he
was at eight years old.  However, looking at the age softened photos as an
adult, he would have described her as a typical slim hipped teen girl, with
curves that suggested womanhood but curves not yet fully formed.  She was
shapely without being overweight.
   The one thing that was fully formed was her chest.  Her breasts
blossomed out, filling one of the tight pearl buttoned sweaters she was
fond of wearing.  Breasts that were made to look even larger than they were
by the slim waist and hips below them.
   Sitting with his plane once again in one hand, half way across the room,
he could smell her clove gum.  Even this early in the morning she was
working on a piece.  Because of their encounters, the scent of clove gum
would always trigger a longing in him, even into adulthood.  Time stopped
for a moment as they looked at each other, lost in their own thoughts.
   His mind drifted back over the past months since her first night visit
to his room, the night he had the flying dream.  She had started visiting
several times a week after that.  As soon as he was in bed with the lights
off, he would wait anxiously listening to the noises in the house, hoping
to hear her footsteps in the hall.
   The house was set up perfectly for uninterrupted visits, with two
bedrooms and a bath upstairs; and his parents' room in what had once been
the garage, downstairs and on the opposite side of the house.
   As he lay in bed waiting, he would hear her head down the stairs,
footsteps soft in stocking feet, and tell their folks goodnight; then hear
the stairs creak as she climbed.  He never knew if he would hear her door
close as she reached the top of the stairs (and feel his heart sink) or
hear her continue softly past her room.
   Their routine was pretty much the same.  She never said much and often
nothing at all.  He would lay with his eyes closed, feigning sleep, heart
hammering, his wiener hardening in anticipation.  She would pause by his
bed, gauging the deepness of their little brother's sleep in the bottom
bunk before starting.  She needn't have worried as he was a sound sleeper.
   After the first few visits, she had taken to pulling on his hip after
she had his pj's down, turning him on his side so she'd have access to his
bottom.  Just like at bath time, she'd run her fingers up and down the
crack, pressing as she reached the pucker of his hole, which sent shivers
up and down his torso.  Then she would give some attention to his wiener,
returning after a while to his bottom.  Her other hand almost always stayed
below the bed.
   A couple of times she used both hands for a while, one on his wiener and
one on his bottom.  He wasn't sure why, but that made it even more exciting
for him.  He loved the feel of her hand caressing his bottom, tracing up
and down the crack, squeezing his buns, reaching between his skewed legs to
brush his nuts, causing his sack to draw up into a tight, wrinkled package.
   Eventually she'd stop and move her hand back below the bed, letting the
fingers that had been caressing his bottom trace slowly past her nose.  It
was almost as if she wanted to smell them.  By the light of day it seemed
kind of weird, her sniffing the fingers that had touched his butt, but in
the moment it made perfect sense and added to the excitement.
   Most nights, she'd eventually lift her top and give him access to her
breasts, laying them on top of the mattress as if arranged on a platter for
his consumption.  As soon as he saw them, he'd get a lump in his throat,
and his mouth would start watering.  He'd reach out unbidden and begin to
manipulate them, using the techniques she had wordlessly taught him that
first night.  On his side, he could lay with his head on the pillow and
easily use both hands which made it that much better.
   One night as she rolled him onto his side, his face ended up inches from
her breast.  He stared intently as the nipple hardened under his fingers.
He breathed deeply wrapped in the smell of her skin, a mixture of soap and
perfume combined with something that smelled like, well like Andrea.
   Without thinking he put his lips over a nipple and began sucking,
working it with his tongue.  She took a sharp, surprised breath before
pressing forward, smashing the breast into his face with a grown.  Soon her
mewing became more pronounced; a wordless acceptance of this new form of
play.  It was in this way that they added variations to their mutual
exploration; wordlessly, almost as if by accident.
   With her nipple in his mouth he could look over the edge of the bed.  He
stared into the void, willing his eyes to adjust and see through the
darkness.  He still couldn't make out what she was doing but he was almost
certain that her hand was inside her jeans.  This led to many nights of
wondering what she looked like "down there." He knew that boys and girls
were different, but that was the sum total of his knowledge.  He had not
played doctor or any other similar games, so had no practical knowledge.
   The strange thing about Andrea's night time visits was that it didn't
change the way she treated him during the day.  To any outside observer he
was just a little brother, a mild nuisance - often in the way or infringing
on her space; and strictly banned from her room or from touching her stuff.
   However, those night visits did change how he thought about her.  He
felt closer to her, and wanted to be around her whenever he could, hanging
on every word she said (which were few).  He knew by her actions that she
didn't want him hanging around, so he tried to respect her desires even if
she didn't reciprocate.
   Her voice broke through his reverie, "Hey, you wanna come and play in my
room?" she asked as if it was the most natural thing to suggest.  Without
waiting for an answer, she turned from the doorway and walked down the hall
   He dropped the jet and jumped up to follow her as she walked towards her
room.  The thought of playing in her room, that forbidden space, was mind
boggling.  He wondered if he should bring his jet plane or if they would
play Monopoly or one of the other grown-up games that she played with her
friends.
   She sat down on an unmade bed, the wall behind her plastered with
posters of rock stars and movie hunks.  He hung back just outside her door,
almost afraid to enter.  Her admonishments from other days ringing in his
ears had made an impression.  Maybe she was playing a trick and would yell
for mom as soon as he crossed the threshold.  She looked at him and crooked
a finger, motioning him in, her face unreadable.
   He walked cautiously into the room, mind racing, wondering what she
wanted, still expecting some kind of trick.  He came to a stop facing her,
a foot or two away.  He was barely breathing, trying not to invade her
space, afraid she would suddenly change her mind and yell at him for
presuming he could just walk into her room.  She was looking down at the
floor so all he saw was the top of her head, the hair gathered in a red
band at the back of her head.  She slowly looked up and into his eyes. 
With a small smile on her lips, she reached out and pulled him closer,
until his knees were almost touching hers.
   Without a word, her fingers went to the waistband of his jeans, grasped
the snap and began to open it.  He jumped a little and put his hand on
hers. "What if mom comes upstairs?" he whispered emphatically, looking
nervously at the door.
   "You really didn't listen, did you?  she replied in a sotto voice.  "She
came in here and woke me up to tell me she was leaving you here with me,
then went to your room to tell you that they were going to the doctors then
shopping.  I heard it all from my room.  Do you remember any of it?" He
slowly shook his head, finally realizing that's why his mom was asking if
he understood.
   "And before you ask, dad is out playing golf like he does every
Saturday. It's just you and me here," she finished in a conspiratorial
whisper, eyes twinkling with a mix of hunger and mischief.
   She started to unzip his pants but he stopped her again.  "What if they
come home early and catch us?" he asked in an urgent whisper.  Their game
made him much more anxious in the light of day, without the justification
of taking a bath.
   Andrea sighed, stood up and walked across a floor strewn with clothes,
the shag carpet she had begged their parents to buy only visible in
patches. His sister was a slob, but he barely noticed, his heart was
racing, wondering what she had planned for him.  She closed the door
firmly. When she turned the lock, his heart began to hammer with
anticipation.
   She crossed the room, oblivious to the dirty clothes, flopped back down
in front of him, leaned forward and whispered, "OK.  Now are you ready to
play a little bit?  We don't have to hurry or worry about getting caught
like at night.  Jeez, I thought you'd jump at the chance."
   He slowly nodded then watched silently as she finished unzipping his
jeans and pushed them down to his ankles.  He could feel his wiener start
to stir as she hooked her thumbs under the waistband and slid his
underpants down as well.  She grabbed the hem of his shirt and he raised
his arms, an automatic response from years of getting ready for his bath.
The shirt dropped to the floor next to his feet, mingling with the clothes
already there.
   He stood in front of her wondering what she was going to do.  The
feeling of her eyes on his mostly naked body felt funny and exciting at the
same time.  Of course, she'd seen him nude many times; she'd been bathing
him for as long as he could remember.  But this was somehow different.  The
bath game was something that just happened, this time it was deliberate,
there was no pretense of something as acceptable or regular as a bath. 
She'd asked him if he wanted to play and he had accepted.
   She bent over and helped him step out of his pants.  As she leaned
close, her cheek brushed his thigh.  The contact, skin on skin, made his
wiener perk up.  He could feel the butterflies fluttering in his stomach.
   Andrea straightened up and traced her eyes slowly from his face, across
his chest, down his tummy, finally stopping at his wiener.  Her gaze mixed
with his anxiety made it buck a little and start to harden.  She reached
out and stroked him, starting between his legs, gently cupping his sack,
which tightened at her touch, then traced her fingers up the underside of
his hardening wiener.  At the top, she grasped his foreskin and pulled it
back, exposing the glans (or as he called it when he was playing in the
bath "the German helmet"), dark red with excitement.
   She slowly moved the foreskin up and down as she leaned in inspecting
him closely.  She was so close that he could feel her breath on his balls.
Her scrutiny added to his level of arousal and he had to swallow hard to
release the lump that had formed in his throat.  She put her hands on his
hips and pushed, guiding him to turn until he was standing sideways to her.
He stood, slightly uncomfortable but excited as well, as she continued her
inspection.  Her hands traced the shape of his bottom and stroked his
wiener simultaneously.
   Again she silently turned him so that he faced away from her.  He
focused on the yard visible through the window on the far wall to ease the
tension he was feeling.  She pushed his legs apart and reached between them
to fondle him with one hand while inspecting his bottom with the other. 
She placed a hand on his back and the other at his waist, wordlessly
guiding him to bend over.  After a few seconds, she seemed to change her
mind, guiding him onto the floor, his bottom in the air and his shoulders
on the carpet.
   He lay there with his cheek on the carpet, still a little afraid, not
knowing what was coming, but trusting her completely.  She sat behind him,
up on the bed looking down at him for a long moment before leaning over. 
Her touch between his spread cheeks sent a chill that raised goose bumps on
his legs and buns and caused his wiener to harden even more.  She used both
hands to stroke each of his buns.  Starting down from the top of his crack,
she circled and pressed on his hole, before reaching between his legs to
fondle, gently squeeze and rub his wiener and balls.
   She repeated this movement several times, lingering on each part before
moving on, keeping the goose bumps and his wiener at attention.  Her touch
felt erotic on one hand and comforting on the other.  His excitement grew
to a point of overload where he couldn't be sure where exactly she was
touching, his arousal consuming the sensations, combining them for maximum
effect.
   He eventually realized she was only using one hand, still circling,
touching each part, bringing the sensations cascading with her fingertips.
He had closed his eyes, blocking out the clothes strewn on the green shag
carpet, focused on the sensations, stronger than he had felt in their night
time play.  Something about doing this in the light of day made it even
more exciting.
   Hearing movement behind him, maybe a change in her breathing or the
subtle rustle of cloth, he opened his eyes.  The first thing that came into
focus was a discarded pair of striped bikini panties.  He stared at them,
wondering what secrets they held.
   He turned his head slightly, the carpet rough on his cheek, and looked
between his legs.  The sight of her fingers as they appeared after slipping
down his crack, sliding the skin up and down his wiener made his heart
hammer.  As he was focused on her fingers, he became more aware of Andrea.
She had moved off the bed and was kneeling behind him slightly to the right
side, her left thigh touching his right.  His gaze moved from between his
legs to her right leg, traced up the thigh, and stopped.  He was
overwhelmed by the erotic sight that greeted him.  one that to this day
made him hard when he recalled it.
   Her left hand was busy rubbing, touching and fondling him.  Her right
hand was under the t-shirt squeezing and kneading her breasts, the movement
obvious beneath the thin fabric.  The hem of the shirt was pulled up,
caught in the crook of her arm, giving him a perfect view of a bulging vee,
accentuated by her partly spread legs and pink bikini panties.
   Her hand moved down from her breasts and she began stroking the vee
through the pink panties.  He watched mesmerized as her motion pulled the
leg bands slightly to one side exposing wisps of dark hair.
   She slid a finger inside the leg band and began rubbing in a circular
motion.  He was rewarded with glimpses of pink flesh and dark hair as the
finger moved.  It wasn't enough to tell exactly what she looked like down
there, but made his heart hammer with excitement all the same.  He focused
on her fingers as she began to move her hips slightly, rocking as she
rubbed herself.
   As she reached between his legs with her left hand, pulling, twisting,
stroking his foreskin, he began to hump against her fingers, switching his
gaze between the hand on his wiener and the hand on her crotch, still
trying to make out what she looked like under the panties.
   He was well on the way to going over the cliff (an orgasam) when Andrea
suddenly pulled her hand out of her panties, letting the t-shirt drop.  She
stopped rubbing him too, letting her hand rest in the middle of his back,
while her breathing slowly returned to normal.  They stayed frozen in
place, not moving what seemed like an eternity..
   He listened hard, wondering if she had heard someone enter the house. 
Maybe mom had come home unexpectedly.  All he could hear over his heart
hammering in his ears was Andrea panting lightly behind him.  He really
wanted to finish, wanted her to reach between his legs and stroke him some
more, but was afraid to ask, the rules of the bath game resonating in his
mind.
   He felt his wiener start to soften and feared they had reached the end
of their play, but was afraid to move or ask.  Andrea finally rocked back
and sat on the edge of the bed.  As her hand left his back he turned to
look over at her.  She motioned for him to come to her.  He turned on all
fours and ended up with his face even with her crotch.  The t-shirt had
ridden up a little giving him a partial view of those pink panties.  He
could see a darkening of moisture on them.
   Andrea leaned over, put her hands under his arms, guiding him back into
a standing position.  His wiener had transitioned to mostly limp and was
thinking of retreating completely.  She looked down at it, hanging sadly
pointed towards the floor.  She took it between her thumb and fingers and
absent mindedly stroked.  It reacted immediately, hardening at her touch.
   She looked up at him and grinned.  "You like what we did so far?" she
whispered.  The fact that she whispered, even though no one was home to
overhear made what they had been doing seem even naughtier.  His spine
tingled as he nodded, hoping she wouldn't stop.  "I've been reading about
stuff and wanted to try it out on you, but couldn't take a chance at
night," she said in a sotto voice as she moved her eyes to the hand slowly
manipulating his dick.  "We have time to try some more stuff if you want
to," she said, looking up from her work.
   He didn't need a second to think, and nodded enthusiastically.
   "You were about to cum.  Weren't you?" she asked, still half whispering.
Noticing the question in his eyes, she explained, "You know finish, where
your penis kind of jumps?" Her use of the proper term for his wiener made
her seem very grown up.
   He nodded again.
   "That's called cumming or an orgasm in the books I've been reading," she
said with a scholarly air.  "It's supposed to be even better if you stop
just before it happens, then start over again.  If you trust me, I'll try
some more stuff."
   He nodded slowly, hoping she'd let him "cum" this time.
   With that, she focused again on his wiener, keeping the stroking slow,
using the swirling back and forth motion that he loved, pulling the
foreskin down and then back up again.  She leaned in so close that he could
feel her breath on his tummy, then did something that made him jump and
suck in his breath.  She parted her lips and slowly slid his weiner into
her mouth, pressing her lips around it as she moved down the shaft.
   His knees went weak and he had to concentrate on standing as she used
her fingers to pull his foreskin down and swirled her tongue around the
sensitive tip.  She moved her lips up and down the shaft, pressing her
tongue hard against the underside, rubbing it up and down, sucking to
increase the pressure.  The feelings coursing through him were wilder than
anything he had ever experienced.  A buzzing started in his head and his
focus narrowed until the only thing in his world was her mouth and his
wiener.
   After a couple of minutes, his head was spinning and he was short of
breath.  She pulled away for a moment and looked up at him.  "Feel good?"
she asked in a breathy voice that hinted at her own arousal.  Seeing the
dazed look in his eyes, she grinned with a twinkle in her eye, then
continued without waiting for an answer, "I thought so."
   Now she stroked with her fingers, teasing occasionally with her tongue,
but not giving him the pleasure of her lips.  With her other hand she
reached behind and began stroking his butt, spending more and more time
around the hole applying gentle pressure while rubbing in circles.
   He watched fascinated as she stopped long enough to bring her fingers to
her lips and place a large amount of saliva on them before returning to his
bottom; pressing between his cheeks again.  The lubrication added to the
sensations shooting through him.  As she circled his anus, it felt like
electric shocks of excitement were running from her fingertips through his
balls and connecting to his wiener.  He pushed back to increase the
pressure and the excitement increased.
   As she rubbed and stroked his bottom she continued to toy with his
wiener; stroking touching and teasing the exposed tip with her tongue until
he was ready to fall to his knees and beg for her to use her lips.  Finally
she touched the tip with her tongue and held it there, then slowly went
down the length of his dick with her lips firmly wrapped around it.
   His response was almost a reflex.  He pushed up towards her lips,
pressing his groin into her face.  She slowly pulled her lips back,
swirling her tongue on the tip, running it down his shaft and around his
balls before wrapping her lips around him again.
   As she worked with her mouth, she continued with her fingers on his
bottom, gentle pressure, circular motion, returning twice to her lips for
more saliva.  For some reason the thought of fingers that had been touching
his butt hole now touching her lips made him even more aroused.
   As she pressed and circled his hole, he pushed back against her fingers
as he had done before.  This time, unexpectedly, the tip of one slipped in.
The sensation was a mixture of slight discomfort combined with a jolt of
pleasure running from his bottom to his balls.  She pulled the finger out,
then pressed it back in, this time a little further.  The feeling was
overwhelming, he didn't know what to do with his hips, whether to push up
into her lips or push back onto her finger, so stayed motionless, tingling
from his knees to his shoulders.
   She increased the motion with her lips and tongue as she moved her
finger in and out of his butt hole.  A lump formed in his throat that
threatened to choke him it was so big.  He swallowed hard, trying to
contain the arousal that was sweeping over him.
   She continued working his weiner with her lips, while she pulled her
finger out of his hole.  He felt pressure again as she pushed against his
hole.  This time the finger felt bigger somehow as she slowly slipped it
into his hole.  It felt weird at first but after a few minutes his hole
felt warm, relaxed and full.  It felt almost like it was trying to suck her
finger inside even as it was already slipping slightly in and out.  She
pulled her lips from his wiener and asked, "How is it feeling?"
   Barely able to breathe, with his legs feeling weak, he shakily said,
"Nice."
   He could feel her breath on his weiner when she said, "You're doing
good, that's two fingers inside of you." She pressed her lips around his
dick again, and began working her fingers in and out of his hole in
earnest. He began shaking, grunting, pushing back against her fingers,
which slowly sank into his loosening hole, causing fantastic sensations to
radiate out from his hole to his crotch, and up into his stomach.
   He could feel the tension building towards release, the feelings rolling
over him.  He put his hands on her head, mostly to hold on as he was having
trouble standing up, his knees trembling with the excitement.  As he held
her head, he watched, he could see a little of his shaft appear and
disappear as Andrea moved her lips up and down.
   As he watched, he saw her hand alternating between holding his foreskin
back and disappearing downward, to touch, press and rub between her legs.
From his position above her he couldn't see the wisps of black hair he knew
were showing, but the knowledge that she was aroused by what they were
doing, seeing her lips on his wiener as her hand worked between her legs
made his ears ring with excitement.
   His eyes remained focused on Andrea but he turned inward to the release
that was building.  His world reduced to her lips, her fingers in his hole,
pressing deeper with each stroke and the sensations coursing through him.
Suddenly it came crashing over him.  He took a deep breath and pulled her
head towards him as his hips pressed up against her mouth; a primordial
motion that would one day ensure that his cum was released as deeply inside
as possible.  At the same time he tensed his bottom, gripping the fingers
that were two knuckles deep inside him.  He felt his dick pumping up and
down inside Andrea's lips, which were wrapped around the base of his wiener
and balls, her tongue dancing around his sack.
   Time seemed to stop for that moment, his ears roaring with the orgasm
that encompassed him.  Finally the room started to come back into focus and
he realized that he had pressed up so hard that his back was arched and he
was balanced on the balls of his feet.  His knees shaking from the
exertion, he lowered himself and straightened his back as he let out a
shaky breath.  Andrea slowly slipped her fingers from his bottom, which was
aching slightly from the intrusion.
   She released her lips as he dropped his hands from her head.  He was
still only semiconscious and did not resist as she lay back across the bed,
pulling him to lay on top of her.  She wrapped her arms around him and
pressed his head into her breasts.  He sensed a nipple pressing into his
cheek through the thin fabric of the shirt but couldn't rouse himself to
play with it.  He got lost for a moment in the soft feeling of her breasts
and the smell of her sweat as he lay there spent, catching his breath.
   Looking back years later, he thought her holding him was a bit out of
character.  For all she had done with him through the years, both sexual
and care taking, Andrea had never been particularly affectionate.  But this
time it felt different.
   She pressed a finger against his lips and he parted them slightly,
taking it in and suckling on it while nestled against her breasts.  He was
puzzled by the slightly bitter taste, not unpleasant, but different than
anything he had tasted before.  It didn't occur to him until later where
that finger had been.
   They lay together on her bed for several minutes, her legs slightly
parted, knees draped over the edge; his groin pressing against her thighs
as he lay panting on top of her.  "Was that good?" she whispered into his
hair, her breath still smelling of clove gum, making him wonder momentarily
what had happened to the piece she was chewing when they started.
   He croaked more than spoke, "Uh huh, really good."
   She rolled out from under him and they moved together onto the bed,
laying side by side, sharing her pillow, him looking up into her face.
   "I thought it would," she whispered, eyes looking kind of dreamy with a
hint of conspiracy in what they had just shared.  She rose up, her elbow on
the bed, head resting on her hand.  "I've been planning that for a long
time.  Since I made you feel good, I think it is only fair that you do
something to make me feel good," she whispered, eyes brightening.  "Will
you do what I tell you?"
   He nodded, his mind too tired to worry about what she meant.  At this
point, he would have done anything she asked.  She didn't give him time to
think.  Rolling onto her back, she pulled her t-shirt up, tucking it below
her chin, so that it framed her breasts.
   They looked so familiar, but different too.  He realized that he had
never seen them in the light before, and never seen the rest of her body,
except for stolen glances.  They were usually laid on the bed beside him,
pale in the moonlight, almost detached from the rest of her.
   What he saw now was magnificent, a sight that he would never forget. 
She had closed her eyes for a moment anticipating his touch, her face
serene.  Her neck was long, milky white rising from the crumpled t-shirt
that was bunched up, covering the bumps of her collar bone just above those
magnificent breasts.
   The breasts were two large globes, spilling out a little to the sides,
looking both firm and soft at the same time.  Her nipples were the size of
small pencil erasers, half erect as they began to harden in the cool air of
the room.  They were surrounded by circles (her areola, although it would
be years before he knew that word) just as he remembered them from her
night visits.
   In the light he could see that the areola and nipples were a dark pink,
something he had not been able to discern in the semi-darkness of his room.
He reached out to touch one softly, enjoying the sight of his fingers on
the pink flesh.  It hardened completely.  The areola hardened too, suddenly
going from smooth to wrinkled; something he had felt but not really been
able to see in the dark.
   He took time rubbing one nipple then the other, squeezing, kneading,
working them as she had taught him.  His gaze drifted down across her
smooth white stomach, rising and falling as she took each breath, the
navel, a small indentation in the middle.  Below it was slightly darkened
skin, a line leading beneath her pink panties, obvious against the white
skin of her stomach.
   The panties themselves were quite plain, thin elastic at the waist and
legs a little darker than the fabric that was stretched between her hips.
Her mons (another word not yet in his vocabulary) rose prominently, made
all the more obvious framed by the white skin of her tightly closed thighs.
   He enjoyed the familiar feel of her breasts as he manipulated them; the
soft mewing that she started as he worked made his heart skip a beat.  He
really wanted to slide down and look more closely at the panties; to find
out what lay hidden beneath their fabric.  Instead, he kept his attention
on her breasts.
   Andrea intruded on his thoughts, demanding breathlessly, "Use your
mouth." He happily complied, using both hands to knead her breasts while he
began to suck, lick and lightly chew the nipple closest to him.  She was
quiet for a moment, then the mewing began again, softly, barely above a
whisper.
   He positioned himself so that he could look down from her breasts across
her belly to the panties stretched over the mound between her legs, still
curious.  He thought about what he had seen already this morning, the
glimpses of hair and pink flesh, the wet spot on her panties.  "Had she
peed herself a little bit?" he wondered.
   Her legs had fallen slightly apart and she was moving her hips gently,
swaying as she lay on the bed.  He watched as her left hand slipped down
her belly, tracing the elastic of her panties, then strayed down across the
fabric, brushing the mound with curled fingertips before coming back to the
waistband.
   She repeated this motion several times, sometimes allowing her fingers
to trace down one inner thigh before tracing back up the other.  It was
almost as if she was teasing herself.  Before long, she slowly pulled her
knees apart, eventually placing the bottoms of her feet together as she
continued to tease.  In this position, her leg pressed against his, butt,
pressing him against the mattress, her skin agains his felt soft and warm.
Once her legs were fully spread she slipped her fingers under the waist
band.
   The stirring in his tummy had started anew when her fingers began their
dance.  Now, his wiener hardened fully for the second time that day as he
watched her hand disappear beneath the pink fabric.  He was excited, now
able confirm what had only been able to guess on her visits to his room;
what had remained hidden in the darkness below his bunk.  Andrea did rub
herself when she was excited.  And, what they were doing was exciting to
her.
   He stared hard at the hand as it tunneled beneath the elastic, sure it
would finally reveal the secrets hidden beneath.  He could see movement
beneath the fabric as her fingers began to rub and stroke.  Occasionally
the waistband would lift with her hand and he would catch a glimpse of
black hair, but in reality he could see very little.  Being so close but
unable to see was maddening.
   Andrea's mewing grew a little louder and her hips began to move up to
meet the fingers working beneath the thin fabric of her panties.  Without
realizing it, he began to slowly move his hardened wiener against the
smooth sheets in time with her hips as he continued to enjoy her breasts;
moving from one to the other with his fingers, lips and tongue; eyes glued
to her gyrating hips.
   After a while, Andrea stopped, pulled her fingers, glistening with
moisture out from under the waistband and straightened her legs.  His heart
stopped.
   He figured it was over, that she had "cum" or done that "o" thing,
whatever it was called.  Instead, he watched in amazement as she hooked
both thumbs under the elastic, raised her hips slightly and pushed the
panties down over her thighs.  He stared slack jawed as she used a foot to
slide the panties the rest of the way down her legs and kick them off the
end of the bed to join the other clothes on the floor.
   He lay there motionless, his cheek resting on a breast, his hand cupping
the one opposite his face, focused on her hips, staring.  Her voice broke
his trance.  The tone was one that older sisters cultivate and younger
siblings learn to fear.  "If you e-v-e-r tell any of your stupid friends or
anyone else about this, I - will - kill - you," she paused for emphasis,
"and you know I mean it!"
   He wasn't sure what to say or even if a response was expected.  Rather
than risk making her mad with the wrong response, he started working on her
breasts in earnest, afraid to look up and meet her eyes, afraid to look
down in case she thought he was some kind of freak, cataloging what he saw
so he could tell a friend later.  He focused instead on the task at hand,
enjoying the silkiness of her skin, the hardness of her nipples, the
strangely wonderful wrinkled flesh of her areolas.
   He heard rather than saw her slide her knees apart.  Felt her leg press
against his butt.  The sound of her fingertips against bare skin as she
slid her hands down her torso and between her legs; the sounds as she
started to rub again were intoxicating.  He focused on her breasts, afraid
to steal a glance after her admonishment.  Soon the mewing started again,
softly as before.  Glancing up he confirmed that her eyes were closed and
he finally dared to look down her torso again.
   She now had both hands between her legs.  Her left was resting on her
inner thigh, her right hand was directly on the mound.  He could see from
the motion that the fingers of her right hand were busy, rubbing up and
down, then in circles.  Occasionally she would run her right hand down
across her thigh, almost to the knee, then back again, her hips pushing up
to meet her fingers as they returned.
   As her right hand slid across her inner thigh, she would brush the
fingers of her left hand along the edge then through the black hair below
her navel.  The motion of her fingers, the movement of her hips, the soft
mewing, the feel of her breasts, were almost overwhelming.  Soon he
re-entered the trance, overcome with the sights and sounds.  His hips again
began to move in time with hers, his arousal growing again, reaching higher
and higher.
   He watched as she traced her left hand up across her stomach and onto
the breast opposite him.  She began alternating between kneading it and
pinching and twisting the nipple, breathlessly moaning with each squeeze.
Her hand brought with it an entirely new scent, musky but not unpleasant.
He found himself breathing deeply, trying to inhale more and more of the
new aroma.
   As her hand moved she brushed against the fingers of his right hand,
resting just below her breast.  She paused for a moment before wrapping her
fingers around his, dragging his hand like a willing hostage down across
the silky skin of her stomach and pressing it into the hair on the top of
the mound.  The new sensation awakened his curiosity and brought him out of
the trance.
   The hair was coarser than that on her head, but somehow softer too.  He
combed through the hair with his fingertips, then pressed down through the
hair, finding the flesh beneath firm and warm.  The motion of her hips
pressed the mound into his fingers as she took them in both hands and
dragged them farther across the mound.  He was surprised to feel warm
moisture on her fingers, then experience the source as his fingers were
pushed between lips that he had not yet seen.
   The hair ended just before his fingers entered the cleft of her vulva,
warm, moist and silky-slippery to the touch.  Her fingers, still on top of
his began to move them in the motion that he had watched moments before,
guiding them to the most sensitive places, teaching them the dance.  He
couldn't see what his fingers were touching, but began exploring the folds
and new textures.  He tried to memorize the sensations, soft and smooth,
fleshy and wrinkled, a hard bump surrounded by soft flesh; all soaked in
the warm, silky moisture.  He worked like a blind man, trying to picture
what his hands were experiencing.
   Without the arousal driving his curiosity, he might have been disgusted
by the moisture and the scent.  Instead, they only served to heighten his
arousal.  He realized as he explored that while he had watched her fingers
move, the motion had been accompanied by the sounds of the moist flesh
being manipulated.  Now it was his fingers guided by hers, that were making
the same sounds.
   As he explored with his fingers, he focused on the motion of her hips,
noting when they rose to meet his fingers, sensing slight shivers when he
touched the right spot in the right way; he listened to her breathing and
the little sounds she made, using them as cues, learning what felt good,
what received the best reaction.  He was drawn closer to his hand as it
worked, slowly slipping his head down off her breast and onto the stomach
below it.
   His arousal centered him, making him a quick study; rapidly learning how
to give her the most pleasure, reveling in her reactions to his touch.  All
his attention was on his fingers now, her breasts forgotten.  Soon his
cheek was resting on her navel.  He felt her hips move as she rose to meet
his fingers dancing up and down the cleft, the bulge of her lips now
visible below the dark black hair.  The scent he had experienced on Andreas
fingers was stronger now driving his arousal, making him bolder.
   He had naturally rolled onto his side, pressing his hard wiener against
her leg.  The combination of sights, sounds and sensations with the silky
skin of her leg touching his hard dick sent him over the edge.  He stopped
moving his fingers, momentarily frozen by the exploding orgasm as his
wiener pumped in dry heaves against her leg.
   Andrea, wrapped in her own arousal, didn't realize he had just cum.  She
took his idle fingers in hers and began pressing them into the moistness
between her legs, forcing the dance to continue.  "Don't stop until I tell
you to," she half commanded, a whisper between breaths, her words heavy
with arousal.  Even though his own body was crying out for him to stop and
savor the warmth of the recent orgasm, he complied with her command,
putting his newly learned skills to use.
   He worked by rote, wanting to please his big sister, but also ready for
her to be done soon.  The urgent excitement of moments before had slipped
away with his orgasm, leaving him feeling spent both emotionally and
physically.  What had been heady and exciting was now a chore, but one he
was unwilling to ignore.  With his renewed effort, she began to rock her
hips again, pressing into his finger tips.  Her hands slid away from his
and he could feel them moving above his head as she began to manipulate her
breasts.
   The sound of her voice as she began her breathless mews sparked
something inside him and the familiar feelings of arousal returned.  Soon
his dick began to harden and his fingers picked up the dance in earnest. 
With renewed interest, he focused on his fingers.  His desire to see
exactly what she looked like "down there" grew with his arousal.
   As if she had overheard his thoughts, he felt Andrea's hands on his
head, pushing him down towards her open legs.  He resisted for a moment,
unsure of himself.  "Use your mouth like you did on my boobs," she
whispered as she pushed.  With her hands guiding his head downward, he slid
out from under her leg and down on the bed, finally half crawling over her
legs, placing himself between them on his stomach, half on the bed half
off, his groin pressing against the edge of the mattress.
   Andrea repositioned herself, moving up the bed a bit, placing her feet
alongside him, the soles touching his sides.  He continued to rub her with
his fingers as he drank in the sight spread in front of him.
   Her face, eyes closed, lips parted, was visible on the pillow.  Her hair
had escaped the rubber band holding it and lay tousled, dark and shiny
framing her face.  Her breasts rose, two milky white mounds beneath her
neck.  The sight of her hands stroking and kneading them, the nipples dark
and pink against the white flesh made his mouth water involuntarily.  Her
stomach smooth and white, rising with each breath was broken only by her
navel half way between her breasts and the mound that demanded his
attention.
   Concentrated on top of the mound was a large triangle full of dark hair,
slightly curly and glistening with moisture.  Beneath the mound were two
plump lips, a little darker in color than the surrounding skin, bare except
for a few scattered wisps of hair.  Dark pink flesh, thin folds within
folds, shiny with the moisture that he had felt were visible between the
slightly parted lips.  Half way up the cleft was a wrinkled button, that
ended in a ridge between the top of her lips.  He was reminded of a complex
flower, still a bud just beginning to open.
   At the bottom, the cleft ended as the lips thinned, her round buns
making a cleft of their own.  Her cheeks parted slightly as her hips moved,
flashing the dark wrinkled skin of her butt hole.  The sight of his fingers
moving through this wonderful new world, increased his excitement.  He
reached up to join the dance with both hands now, fingers moving in
parallel.
   He watched as his fingers moved between the lips, parting them slightly
as they slid up towards the button.  He could now see as well as feel what
touches elicited the best reactions.  He pressed hard as his fingers
circled the button, pushing against the hard ridge behind it enjoying the
feeling as Andrea pressed her hips up to meet his touch.
   He had forgotten her request, focused as he was on the new sight in
front of him.  Andrea moved her hands from her breasts and grabbed his head
pulling it into her.  He was caught off balance and resisted against her
hands for a moment before allowing her to guide him.
   He closed his eyes and not knowing what to do, opened his lips and
pressed them around the button.  This elicited a shiver and a moan in
response.  He pressed his tongue against the captive flesh drawing another
positive reaction.  Warming to his task, he used his tongue to explore the
folds, slowly working down one side, feeling her raise her hips as he
licked lower.
   With his nose pressed against her, the aroma permeated his senses.  He
was surprised to find her taste was not unpleasant, slightly salty and a
little sweet.  He explored further, moving his tongue all the way down the
cleft, enjoying the sensation as the folds opened against his tongue.  She
pushed up and he slipped all the way down to her bottom, tasting the slight
bitterness of her anus.  Rather than disgust him, it aroused him further.
So he pushed his tongue against it for a moment before moving upwards
again.
   He fell into a rhythm, down one side, up the other and around the button
before spending time with it between his lips, then back down again.  He
liked the feel of it in his mouth, soft flesh surrounding an inner
hardness. As he worked, he was enveloped by the heady musk that he had
first experienced on Andrea's fingers.
   The arousal now overtaking her, Andrea didn't seem to know what to do
with her hands.  At one moment she had them on either side of her lips,
spreading them open, giving him full access; the next, she had slipped them
under her thighs reaching between to spread her lips from below; then
sliding her hands onto her buns, holding them open.
   He followed her fingers with his mouth, transitioning from warm
saltiness to the slightly bitter of her anus, enjoying the goose bumps that
rose on her thighs as his tongue traced between them.  He was fully aroused
now, his hips pressing his wiener against the rough edge of the mattress.
   All too soon his jaw began to cramp, unaccustomed muscles being worked;
he was tempted to pull back, rest a minute and take another look at the
marvelous new sight, but Andrea's voice interrupted.  "Don't stop, don't
stop," she repeated breathlessly between mews.  The words almost became a
plea; she sounded desperate and vulnerable in her desire.  Realizing that
he had the power to give her pleasure, that she was frantic for release;
only served to increase his arousal and his desire to please her.
   Her hands had finally found a place to rest, holding his head, fingers
laced through his hair as he worked his magic; in an oddly similar fashion
to his own reaction to her mouth on his weiner earlier.  His tongue was
getting tired, his jaws were starting to ache from being held open and his
wiener was hurting a little from so much friction without any lubrication.
Her pleas, almost a mantra now, drove him on, the pain in his jaws
throbbing.
   Then it happened.
   Without warning, her hips pressed up hard against his tongue her hands
pushing him into her mons from behind, holding him tightly.  His nose was
buried in her flesh making it kind of hard to breath.  Then her legs closed
tightly on his head, pressing against his ears.  She shuddered, grunting
quietly, his head clamped tightly between her thighs as the orgasm coursed
through her.  He held his breath, trying not to panic, forcing himself to
keep licking as she alternately spread her legs and pressed up into him;
then squeezed his head between her thighs.
   Finally she fell back against the bed panting, spent.  Her legs having
released him from their grip, lay akimbo.  He stopped licking and raised
himself onto his elbows, breathing heavily from the exertion as well as
from holding his breath, still aroused, wanting to look again at her, to
commit it to memory.
   The lips that had been puffy and partially closed lay open like a
flower, dark red from the recent arousal.  The thin inner folds of flesh,
dark pink, lay open as well, the button at the top where the folds joined
was swollen and seemed to throb.  He could see an opening at the bottom of
the folds, glistening with moisture, a small drop trickling down between
her buns, following a trail the mixture of her juices and his saliva.
   He raised his head a little, looking up across her stomach and could see
a flush spreading down from her neck and onto the top of her breasts.  He
absentmindedly wiped his cheeks with the back of one hand, surprised at how
wet they were.  Andrea's eyes opened and looked at him dreamily.
   She reached down and put a hand on each side of his head, cupping his
ears and pulled gently, guiding him up her torso.  He rose on his knees and
allowed her to guide his head across her breasts, finally pressing it
against her shoulder, cradling him against her neck.  He nestled in,
enjoying the softness against his cheek, listening to her still labored
breathing, hearing as well as feeling her heart beat as her chest rose and
fell.
   He slowly relaxed until he was laying against her, enjoying the feeling
of her breasts against his neck and chest.  His wiener, still hard,
smarting from the abuse against the mattress, pressed against her.  He felt
the contrast of the warm, silkiness of her lips and the coarseness of the
hair.  He settled his hips against her, pressing gently against her sex
with his hardness, enjoying the soft warmth.
   They lay quietly together for the second time that morning, her arms
holding him on top of her.  As he caught his breath, the sensation of the
moist folds of flesh against his dick became more apparent.
   It began wordlessly.
   He shifted slightly, flexing his hips and pressing into the softness. 
Her hips reacted almost with a mind of their own, pressing up against him.
He pressed in again, tentatively testing for a reaction.  She pushed up to
meet him.  He drew back for a moment before pressing in, this time more
deliberately.  She spread her legs, flexing her pelvis up to meet him
again. He tried again, the soft flesh and firm pelvis meeting every
movement.
   He kept his cheek pressed against her neck, enjoying the sensation of
flesh on flesh.  He raised slightly on his knees, pulling his wiener away
from the warmth, then pushed back down, sliding his hips forward, feeling
his shaft slip along the silky wetness of her cleft.  She flexed the small
of her back against the bed, pressing the bottom of the cleft upward,
increasing the contact.  He could feel his balls pressing against the
bottom of her lips.
   Slowly, he repeated the motion, each time trying to start lower,
increasing the length of their contact.  She put her feet on the bed,
raising her knees, flexing her pelvis more to give him better access.  They
increased the motion together, silently joined in their mutual arousal. 
Her hands slid down his back to his bottom, squeezing his cheeks, guiding
and encouraging him.
   The sensation as he slid along was wonderful until his dick came into
contact with the hair at the top of her cleft.  The coarseness was
uncomfortable as it raked across the tender, abused skin of his shaft.  He
was contemplating stopping, afraid he'd rub himself raw, when she released
his buns and pressed a hand along her belly, slipping it between their
hips. He lifted slightly to give her better access and he felt her fingers
wrap around his shaft.
   The hand on his bottom pressed down guiding him forward as she flexed
her hips upward.  With her other hand she guided him into her.  He slowly
pushed, gasping as he entered her, the silky warmth enveloping him.  With
her hand on his rump and her hips guiding his movement he began to pump,
really more of a grind as his short dick didn't allow for much in and out
movement.
   Her hand stayed between them, pressing and rubbing at the top of her
cleft as they ground together.  As the speed increased, his little wiener
kept popping out.  Each time she guided him back in.  After popping out for
the fifth or sixth time, she stopped moving and half pushed, half guided
him off and against the wall next to her.
   She rolled over, lifting her hips into the air, her head and shoulders
against the pillow.  "Get on your knees behind me," she commanded
breathlessly.
   He scrambled behind her and looked, her bottom, the hole dark pink and
puckered between firm white globes, greeted his gaze.  Beneath her cheeks,
the lips bulged beneath the fingers holding them open.  He stretched up,
trying to enter her, but was too short.  She spread her legs farther,
lowering her hips, adjusting as he tried again.  He used his hand to help
aim and finally felt the warmth envelop him as he found his mark.
   She pushed back against him, grinding, her fingertips brushing his balls
as she began to rub herself in earnest.  He pumped against her, allowing
his dick to slide a little way out before pushing in hard against her
again. We watched her hips moving urgently, mesmerized by the round cheeks
spread wide, framing the dark, wrinkled anus still glistening with the
moisture of his recent activities.
   Andrea's arousal was obvious in the increasingly frantic motion of her
hips and fingers.  While it felt wonderful to be buried inside of her, he
wasn't getting any closer to the release he wanted.  He tried several
different angles, but the reality was he was just too small to get the
friction he needed.  It was as if his dick was in a warm, moist cave.
   As she pushed against her fingers, Andrea's legs spread farther apart,
lowering her hips, making it harder for him to stay inside of her.  He
finally pulled out, frustrated, wanting the feeling of being inside of her,
but wanting more friction as well.  He watched as she masturbated, lost in
her arousal, her hips moving, her buns opening to reveal her anus,
beckoning to him.
   On impulse, he pushed the head of his dick against the wrinkled hole,
slick with their combined juices.  As he pushed down, she pushed up against
him and he felt it pop in.  The feeling was beyond description.  Warm and
slick, but incredibly tight, she gripped him so hard it almost hurt.
   Andrea was mewing loudly now, pushing back against him, her fingers
brushing his balls as she madly rubbed herself.  He stayed glued to her
buns as her hips sank lower, pressing into hands resting on the mattress.
He could feel her hole grip his shaft, then release slightly, then grip
again as her hips moved against her hands.
   He balanced himself on his elbows and knees, keeping the angle necessary
to stay inside of her, the arousal increasing.  He looked down past his
chest to where their flesh was joined, watching the motion of her buns
against his groin, working towards the ultimate release.
   It was not to be.  Andrea collapsed beneath him, grinding into her
hands, panting from the exertion.  She moved so fast he couldn't keep
contact and his dick popped free.  He lowered himself on top of her,
seeking his own release, pressing frantically against her buns, as she
shuddered with another orgasm.
   She rolled out from under him, pushing him away.  He resigned himself to
his fate and lay down beside her, desperately wanting to hump against her
leg or hip, anything to feel her skin against his wiener.  Instead, he lay
quietly on his side, waiting for her to catch her breath.
   She finally turned towards him, face flushed, hair damp and mussed.  She
must have seen the angst in his face.  She reached down and began to play
with him.  "You didn't get an orgasm, did you?" she whispered with a
naughty look in her eyes.
   He shook his head.
   She pushed him onto his back and straddled him, slowly crawling
backwards over him, until she was on her stomach between his legs, her face
inches from his wiener.  He watched as she leaned forward, contemplating
his dick as she slid the foreskin down.  The motion hurt his abraised skin,
but felt good at the same time.  She leaned forward and unbelievably took
his dick between her lips, swirling her tongue around the head before
sliding her lips down to his groin.
   He pressed his hips up to meet her.  The softness of her lips, the fact
that she had his dick in her mouth, the very same dick that had just been
in her bottom made his head swim.  It only took a few strokes and his dick
began pumping inside her mouth, the third orgasm of the day washing over
him as he closed his eyes and sank back against the mattress.  She let his
pulsing dick drop from her lips and lay down next to him on the mattress.
   He lay there in a fog, trying to make sense of the morning, reliving
each event from the time she appeared in his doorway.  After only a few
moments, he felt her attitude change, almost as if a chill had entered the
room.  In a movement almost too quick to follow, she was off the bed and
wrapped in a bathrobe that had been in a pile of clothes by the bed.  She
looked at him as if seeing him for the first time, realizing that he had
intruded into her private space.
   "You'd better get out of here and back to your room," she said, somewhat
sternly.  The tone in her voice broke his reverie and made him jump.  He
hopped off the bed and was halfway to the door before she reprimanded him,
"Don't leave your clothes in my room." He scurried to pick up the discarded
clothes, half tempted to try to steal a pair of her panties in the process.
   He made his way to the door, feeling perplexed by her sudden change of
attitude and a little embarrassed by his nakedness.  He looked over his
shoulder as he walked out the door and caught the hint of a smile and a
wink.  "Close my door, please," Andrea asked, the softness returning to her
voice.
   comments?  Use the completely anonymous comments page -
www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/JojoMojo/www/form.html
   want similar stories?  https://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/JojoMojo/www/ 
  
Flying_High_02