Disclaimer: These are adult fantasies. You are strongly advised
not to attempt any of the activities described here, not least
because it would result in several years in prison suffering
the abuse of such decent folk as muggers and murderers.

===============================================================

Subject: Siblings Reunited by Methuselah
Author: Methuselah
Keywords: bg inc

This probably won't make much sense unless you read my "Sibling
Revelry" first, although you're welcome to try.

When I broke off, my little sister Jane and myself were nine and
eleven respectively.  We'd discovered the delights of sex over the
previous few years, progressing from fondling to full intercourse
over that time.  On hearing The Talk, Jane had just discovered
that intercourse would be safe until she started having "periods"
and we took full advantage from then on.

Our father was almost permanently absent, and our mother had
evening classes twice a week, leaving us to be looked after by
Mrs Jones from down the road, a paragon of gluttony and sloth.
This left us with two hours twice a week to do as we liked in our
bedrooms - and we did. Although we'd discovered intercourse, we
still enjoyed other pastimes, and it was an unusual week when
Jane didn't finish by swallowing my semen and getting a special
"thrill" from my tongue.

Nothing much changed when I got to secondary school, although it
did enrich our language. We liked "cock" and "pussy", but thought
"cunt" rather vulgar. The really useful word was "come", though.
Who would have thought that such a simple and common word could
be so evocative?

Mind you, I should have explained it to Jane before using it for
the first time. I gasped "I'm going to come in your mouth!". She
pulled away from my penis to say "But you're already in..." and
suddenly there was semen/come everywhere but in her mouth. She
was slightly annoyed and very messy, but she was fascinated to
learn this new vocabulary, and quite ready to rub my "come" into
her little breasts (we weren't too keen on "boobs" or "tits",
either).

After I'd redirected as much as possible of that secretion from
her face into her mouth, she demanded "Lick my pussy and make me
come". How could I refuse my sister's request, when so elegantly
expressed?

Since the days covered in my last epistle, Jane had developed
definite boob... sorry, breasts. Tiny, but definitely there. 
Sensitive nipples, too. It was one of my delights to rub the head
of my cock over a nipple, and to close the foreskin over it.
Sometimes Jane would wank (another useful word) me off in that
position until my come flowed down her breast.

She would like to have measured the amount I was producing. I
suggested that she could wank me off into a glass and weigh it on
Mum's letter scales, but this was rejected on grounds of hygiene
and practicality. There was plenty of it, anyway; at least a
mouthful, according to Jane, who should know.

She did measure my my cock, though (4 1/4 inches fully erect on
the occasion of my eleventh birthday treat, since you ask). In
one of her old school exercise books was an unlabeled graph whose
dog-eared page suggested a surprising degree of studiousness.

Jane also had started growing pussy hair, which made it easier
for me to explain the slang term. Given that she was a true
blonde, one had to get very close to see it but I, for one, found
that no hardship.

Two more dramatic changes occurred a couple of years later when I
reached the age of thirteen and Jane that of eleven (our
birthdays were just two weeks apart, which occasionally resulted
in joint presents, never as nice as we would have received
separately!).

My cock, which Jane sometimes called my willy, for old time's
sake,  had reached a full five inches, causing Jane to extend the
axis on her graph, but that wasn't a dramatic change.

Mum completed her evening classes, told us she was starting a
part-time job next month and sacked the Enormous Jones, declaring
that I was old enough to look after Jane and that there would be
no more paid babysitters. She also made it clear that we'd see a
lot less of our father (if that was possible). No surprise to us;
we weren't stupid kids.

The second dramatic change, a few weeks later, was that Jane had
her first period. Typically, she told me before telling Mum, and
I hugged her emotionally. So did Mum and she was all, "You're a
woman now, Jane".

We were more thinking, "Oh no! That means no more fucking". Ah
yes, the F word. Jane really didn't like it when I introduced her
to it, although she had to admit that it was snappier than
"having intercourse". It was only when she gasped "Fuck me, fuck
me, FUCK ME!", while having intercourse and about to come, that
it was permitted into our vocabulary.

It didn't occur to us, though, that the timing was perfect.
Simple logic should have told us that it would have been
perfectly possible for Jane to get pregnant before her first
period was due. We just never thought of it.

We complained bitterly to each other about losing our
twice-weekly sessions, although we knew we'd have plenty of
occasions when Mum was at work and I was babysitting. In fact,
those few weeks of abstinence may have saved us from disaster.
When the penny did drop, several years later. there were sighs of
relief all round. No, we didn't figure it out for ourselves.
There was a scandal about a late-blooming schoolmate of Jane's
who got caught in just that fashion. We were just lucky, I
suppose.

Still, we got into a new routine when Mum started work. She
preferred the 2-10 shift because she could ensure that we got
ready for school on time in the morning. We preferred it because
it gave us more time to play with each other in the evening. We
coped well with Jane being closed to the public one week in four.
We both loved giving oral sex as well as receiving it, and I was
happy to give Jane more than her share on the "open" days.

She was also happy to wank herself through her knickers while
having me come in her mouth or over her breasts, so she wasn't
completely left out. We also experimented with her nipples and
she finally got an orgasm as I rolled her nipples, lubricated by
my come, between my fingers. Just to show it wasn't a fluke, I
repeated the process on her other nipple.

The fear of pregnancy was something else though. Jane was in her
last term at primary school, so there was a total dearth of
information there. It was only when she entered secondary school
that some light appeared at the end of the tunnel. Jane is one of
those few people who can just fade into the background. Very
useful for listening in to things one isn't supposed to hear.
What she heard was definitely not intended for younger ears!

Two older girls, fourth or fifth years, were talking about a girl
who had had the good fortune to be on the Pill since she was
twelve. Now, in those days, they didn't hand it out like
Smarties. You had to have a good medical reason if you were under
sixteen. It appeared that this girl had, or claimed to have had,
painful and irregular periods and had been prescribed the Pill to
correct this. Her classmates were highly sceptical, although that
might have been bitchiness and/or jealousy.

When Jane reported this back to me, we were interested but not
quite sure where to go from here. Then inspiration struck: "The
library!", I exclaimed (for the benefit of our younger readers,
that's like the Internet, but with books) .

To explain. I was a bit ahead of my class at school; OK, way
ahead... That meant I had an adult ticket for the Central Library
and time off to study in the Reference section (think
unrestricted access to the Internet). I couldn't take the books
out but I did have a limited number of goes on the
state-of-the-art dye line copier (oh, work it out for yourself).

What I concentrated on were the legal criteria for prescribing
the Pill to nymphets (technical and boring) and the symptoms of
the associated disorders (technical and yucky). This took up
eight of my assigned ten sheets so I grabbed two pages on the
Laws of Hammurabi, put them on top, and checked it all out. Even
the librarian's eyes glazed over at that and she waved me through
without checking the rest.

Jane was much more interested. No, not in the Laws of Hammurabi,
do pay attention!

"I've had that. Yes, I can fake that. I think I can just see how
to convince them of that. That one is SO easy! I think I can see
just what to say there. Thank you, Adam, you're so clever; you
deserve a treat."

With which she knelt down in front of me, unbuttoned the fly of
my secondary school long trousers and proceeded to give me one of
the best blow jobs of my young life. Lots of tongue, tantalising
pauses and finally extra suction and a full swallow, spilling not
a drop of my come.

As an encore, she unbuttoned her blouse, pushed her bra up over
her breasts and fondled a nipple after coating it with a mixture
of saliva and semen from her mouth. She rolled it between her
finger and thumb in the manner of one winding a watch until she
had what appeared to be a more than satisfactory orgasm.

"I've been practising that in bed - did you like it?'

I was speechless and just looked down at my cock, fully erect and
eager again.

"Well, your willy does, anyway. Come in my mouth again, Little
Adam."

He did and he did. Then we stood up and hugged each other,
kissing "with tongues" and a fair amount of bodily fluids. When
our lips parted and with much fondling of buttocks, we discussed
our plans.

"I can see what to do, Adam. Probably best to get rid of the
copies now."

"What if you need to check something?"

"If it's just one thing, you can always go back to the library
and memorise it. You know what Mum's cleaning is like."

I did. As cleaning, it was pretty perfunctory, but as searching
it rivalled the KGB and CIA. It's a good thing we never wrote
anything down about our affair - up to now, anyway, and Mum,
bless her, is long gone.

I burnt the copies in the garden. Not the Laws of Hammurabi; they
were actually quite interesting and highly impressed both my
mother and my teachers. Not Jane, though; she knew they were
camouflage.

The campaign for the Pill took just over six months, with several
emotional outbursts by both of my female relatives but, one fine
autumn day, Jane opened her hand to reveal a bubble pack with
twenty-eight capsules that could only mean one thing. We said it
almost together, "In fifty-six days we fuck!".

We celebrated with a prolonged and exhausting session of oral sex
with which I won't bother you, dear reader. Suffice it to say
that we had to open the windows wide and convince Mum that we
were merely enjoying the autumn air when she got home.

You have to believe that we counted those days down with care.
Jane prepared a little grid under her anonymous graph (5 1/2
inches now, thank you for asking) and we almost made a ceremony
of ticking off each day.

Then, in late November, the day came. It was a grey school day
but Mum was on the late shift. At school that day, I was erect
from lunchtime onwards. Thank God, we didn't have PT or games.
All I could think of was Jane's cunt (it's all right for me just
to think it, OK?)

I dashed home on my bike, my speed only restrained by the thought
that it would be a terrible waste to go under a bus, today of all
days.

I beat Jane home by about thirty seconds, and we hugged and
snogged violently. I was all ready to hurl her down on the sofa
and have my evil way with her, but she pushed me away and said
"No, Adam. Remember our first time?"

"Yes, but..."

"So do I. Let's do this properly, shall we? Bath first?"

I have to admit that I was seriously sweaty, despite the November
chill. So, I'm sorry to say, was Jane. You go first, and wait in
your room. In your pyjamas, please."

I did as I was told. I had my bath as quickly as possible, called
Jane to hers, and waited impatiently. Keeping my hands off myself
was a major exercise in self-restraint. I tried thinking of the
Laws of Hammurabi, but they didn't help much.

After what seemed like a week. or at least long enough for my
mental processes to reach the great scribe's dictates on oxen and
asses, Jane appeared at my doorway in a teenage version of the
Baby Doll nightdress, albeit in a very small size. That's what
happens when exasperated mummies say "Oh, go on, buy one you DO
like".

The material of the top was almost transparent, and her aroused
nipples were perfectly visible. Her breasts were now a good A
cup, as the cut of the material made clear. It has to be said,
though, that there were no bunnies.

She whispered "My turn first, this time" and I realised that she
remembered our first time as clearly as I. She lifted up her top
in stages, first to reveal the equally sheer panties, through
which her aroused pink pussy slit was clearly visible, with even
the slightest hint of blonde curls. The next was to reveal her
beautiful little breasts, a definite presence by now rather than
just a promise. Her nipples, usually the lightest pink, were as
dark as her pussy and it took all my self restraint not to ruin
it by leaping on her. The last stage was to lift it right off and
hurl it into a corner.

She stood there in just her tiny panties, a vision of preteen
loveliness, and gestured to me to take off my pyjama jacket. I
did, revealing the very first few chest hairs. No time to boast,
though, this was Jane's big day.

She turned away to let me admire her delicious buttocks, no
longer boyish, but rounding out nicely into womanliness. I
observed their curvature closely as an alternative to grabbing
them with both hands.  She wiggled them at me and slid her
panties down and let them fall to the floor.  Picking them up
with a toe, she kicked them into the opposite corner. Then she
opened her legs, bent forwards, and showed me her pussy from
behind. Reaching under herself, she slipped a finger into her
vagina and stroked in in and out.

I was almost bursting by now, but just holding my own - or NOT
holding my own to be precise, when she turned round and held
herself open with both hands as she had at our first Show and
Tell. Despite her self control, I could see she was highly
aroused. She waved my pyjama trousers away with a flick of her
wrist and I ripped them off without a hint of elegance.

My sweet little sister didn't seem to mind that. She sauntered
over to my bed and knelt over my crotch.

"I'll come straight away", I warned.

"Ssh, love, so will I."

I felt that silken sheath settle itself down over my cock for the
first time in far, far too long. We grabbed each other's buttocks
and thrust. I heard her scream out, through the red mist as I
pumped her literally full this time around. There were maybe
three strokes, certainly no more, then we lay in post-orgasmic
luxury. She had been right. I could  feel her pussy clenching on
my still half-hard cock as our mixed fluids drained on to my
groin.

"Mm... Just like I remember it, love", she murmured.

"And for me, too?... Love?"

"Of course, Adam dear. Didn't you know?"

And, thinking about it, I suppose I did.

We lay in perfect, if damp, luxury for several minutes until Jane
felt me stiffen inside her. "Let's turn over, love.", she
whispered, and we performed the familiar manoeuvre of which we
had been deprived for so long. Taking my weight on my elbows, I
started thrusting slowly, savouring each inch of contact, then
speeding up as Jane began moaning in pleasure. By the tine we
came, we were thrusting away at each other in total abandon. I
forgot my gentlemanly elbow work and pounded away with my full
(if inconsiderable) weight and Jane grasped my bum fiercely to
increase the pressure, crying "Fuck me, oh, fuck, yes!". We came
loudly and together - even the Enormous Jones might have heard.

After a minute or so, Jane exclaimed breathlessly "Get off,
you're squashing me". When I lifted myself up on my elbows, she
raised her head up to silence my apologies and whispered "That
was a lovely fuck. Good for you, too?"

"Perfect, love. It just feels so wonderful to be inside of you
again. Although your mouth feels great, too..."

"Good, because that's next. Roll over and we'll hug like spoons."

It dawned on me at last that my little sister was taking charge
today. OK, I was slow. I was male and not yet fourteen years old;
what did you expect?

I rolled off and Jane away so that my sleeping willy rested
between those buttocks that I had so admired. I discovered that
each little breast fitted a hand perfectly, which was nice. The
darling little nipples were still erect, which suggested that my
little sister was still aroused. The feel of those nipples and
the warmth of those buns around my cock was having its effect on
me, too.

Jane must have noticed the increasing pressure on her backside,
because she whispered "Hang on a minute" and wriggled out of my
grasp. After a quick rotation and slide down the bed, she was in
position to touch my cock head with the tip of her tongue, and
then to take it in her mouth and caress it. "Mm, nice" she
murmured, which could only have been a reference to our combined
flavours.

I was expecting to receive another of my sister's delightful blow
jobs but she had other ideas. She kissed the tip of my willy,
then reversed her previous manoeuvre, snuggling back against my
erection. I fondled her little titties again and was snugly
comfortable when she said, "Come on, love, let's do it from
behind!" For a moment, I thought she was suggesting buggery,
something that didn't appeal to me then and doesn't now. However,
she raised her left leg and guided my cock into her vagina.

I honestly didn't know you could do it like that, but my cock,
which had wilted slightly, responded to the familiar warmth and
wetness. Cautiously, I started to move in and out and realised to
my surprise that it felt at least as good from that angle. Also,
I could actually get at her lovely breasts from that angle, at
the same time as we fucked, which was nice.

Echoing my thoughts, Jane cooed "Nice, isn't it Adam? I love you
stroking my breasts, and I can play with myself too."

She was. I could feel her fingertips on my willy as she stroked
her tickle bump.

"Let's do it nice and slowly now".

We did, and I was really beginning to like this new position. It
lacked the urgency of what we'd done do far, but there was a much
gentler buzz.

"It feels as if we could do it for hours and hours, love", I
whispered in her ear.

"Mm, let's" she replied.

We didn't, of course, but it felt like that. She came first, with
sighs of pleasure, and I took my time before having a come that
was smooth rather than dramatic.

Post-sex cuddling was nice in that position, too, and it was a
fair while before I asked the obvious question. "Where on earth
did you learn that?"

She turned her head and said, "While we were waiting until I got
the Pill, one of the girls in the class was showing us a book
that she had 'borrowed' from her older sister. It was a guide for
the newly married and it had all sorts of positions for making
love. All the girls giggled about it and so did I, but I was
making mental notes for us when we could do it again. Did you
like that one, Adam?"

"It was marvellous, love! I look forward to doing it again." So
much for Mum's idea of sending Jane to a "nice school", I
thought. I was curious, though. "Did it talk about the other
things we do, like with our mouths?"

"No", Jane giggled, "I suppose that's not for married people. It
said about 'foreplay', though, which is what we do with our
hands. I wonder how many little girls played with themselves that
night, thinking about it?"

I wisely didn't comment on my nearly-twelve little sister talking
about "little girls". I was making early progress on every male's
lifelong study "Understanding Females".

"Did you pick up any more ideas then, love?"

"A couple, but none as nice as that. We've worked out most things
for ourselves", she boasted. "Now, I think we need a bath. Mum'll
be home in half an hour."

She would. She'd have kittens if she found out why I was so
insistent on a bedside alarm clock, but it was a very useful
safety device.

"Together, Jane?" I was joking. Regardless of parental
prohibitions, there simply wouldn't be room for both of us now.

"Of course not, silly. You can wash my back, though. And turn
over the duvet and open the window. I don't know WHAT people have
been up to in here!" A passable imitation of Mum's tone of voice,
there...

All passion spent, we had the chance to appreciate each other's
bodies in the bath. For my part, I could see that Jane was
developing into a beautiful young woman. Her breasts and buttocks
were rounding out nicely, and her pussy-fur was on the way to
being a golden nest. By all indications, she seemed pleased with
the way I was developing, but modesty forbids that I say more.

So it proved, and much pleasure we had of it. That though,
children, is a story for another day. 

End of document

  
Siblings Reunited