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Introduction:

Incest, Spaghetti, Dinosaur, Walk it
Monday morning I woke up to a virtually empty house. No Tasha, and Amanda sent me a text that she was going back to school today, Dad left early for work, as usual (happy that Tasha was doing fine), so that just left Mum, little Tommy and me.
Dragging my arse downstairs, I meet mum by the front door. After the end of last week’s revelations, her attitude towards me has improved greatly, and she finally seems to appreciate the work I’ve been doing around the house, rather than seeing it as my duty. Still, while she is much more cordial to me, she’s developed this annoying habit of never making eye contact. She’ll look everywhere else, but never directly at my face. I put it down to something else about this family I’ll be told eventually, but I hope it’s not too long. At least she seems happier, and since she’s started wearing her hair down, she looks a hell of a lot younger too.
She tells me she has to head out for the morning before hitting the hospital. Surprisingly she gives me a kiss on the cheek, I ruffle tommy’s hair (too busy dribbling to notice) and the house is finally empty.
Not sure if mum forgot, or she’s cutting me a break, but I appear to have nothing to do, so I go online, apply for 25 jobs (same as Friday), and after spending 10 minutes staring at the DVD shelf, I wuss up and give the house a quick clean. My bedroom’s neater than normal so I try Tasha’s, that’s still tidy too. So I give the hospital a call and manage to talk to her.

“Hey, what’s up?”
“Oh, nothing, I’m rifling through your knicker drawer wondering if you wanted me to bring anything up.”
“As you’re there, just some clean knickers, tshirt and jeans. Oh, and grab that book by the bed. I’m losing brain cells by the minute here I’m so effing bored.” (I guess she has company)
“You ok for bras?” I hear a giggle.
“I thought you knew me better than that.”
“Pardon?”
“Tell you what, if you can find any bras you can bring some.” A little perplexed, I check her drawers, the wardrobes, and the laundry basket
“You don’t have any bras” another giggle, and she drops to a whisper.
“That’s ok, I don’t have any tits” I laugh
“So what was I using as target practice the other day?” A laugh, followed by an ‘ow’.
“Shut up. You coming over?”
“Yep, I’ll be over as soon as I’ve finished trying on some of your clothes”
“Ok, but don’t stretch anything. Love you.”
“Love you ‘sis’.”
I pack a few things, looking for her sexiest knickers, which is actually a bit of a challenge, as most of her underwear is quite plain and conservative. I choose a couple of sporty pairs (Grey with pink trim. Figure-hugging. My thang.)

I take a quick glance in my parent’s room. I seldom go in there, but I give it the once over. I notice the little cabinet beside mum’s side of the bed is open, so I go over to close it. I really wish I hadn’t when I see what’s in there.
Vibrators. (7 number. Varying sizes, including one ‘two-fingered’). Anal beads. Ben-wa balls. Nipple clamps. I stare for a while, and thankfully not seeing any real BDSM gear (no whips of handcuffs). I close the drawer and try to shake the image of by mother using any of them. Particularly the beads. I lock up the house and dash to the car, turning the music up REALLY FUCKING LOUD SO I CAN’T HEAR THE THOUGHTS RUNNING AROUND MY HEAD ABOUT MY MOTHER USING ANAL BEADS.
However, by the time I get to the hospital I’ve done my normal thing of over-thinking things. My mother, or at least the woman I regard as my mother, is entitled to a sex life. She’s not that much older than me, so her appetite is still healthy, and fuck it, she’s got a good figure (same as Tasha’s) so I get out of the car feeling a lot less creeped out than I was earlier. I think the reason I may have been so shocked was because until a few days ago my mother dressed like Dolores fucking Umbridge, but with less pink.
Finally walking the corridors towards Tasha’s room, the first think I’m aware of is a buzz, of many hushed conversations, then comes a smell. Not unpleasant, but gradually more powerful as I get closer. I turn the last corner and I’m met with a line of teenage girls, all chatting and giggling, holding teddies and flowers, all seated along a wall, and since they’re all in Tasha’s uniform, I guess they’re all here to see my sister.

I can feel myself getting redder as I walk past them, a few looking straight at me then whispering to each other behind their hands. As I near the door a couple of the girls I recognise make eye contact.
“Oh hi” As they’re the only familiar faces I go over.
“Hi, what are you all doing here?”
“We’ve come to see Tasha, of course. They’re only letting us in 2 at a time though, and only for a few minutes. We’re only about halfway through.” I look back at the rest of the line. There must be at least an hour to go. I contemplate leaving and coming back later, but the girls weren’t finished with me yet.
“Is Amanda here?” This raises a grin and a few nearby eyebrows.
“No, she’s at school. The headmaster asked her if she wanted to come but apparently she was here nearly all weekend anyway.”
“Oh… right. I suppose she was, yes.” I’m surprised at how disappointed I sound.
“Can I ask you a question?” I am, to say the least, trepidacious.
“Um, ok?”
“Are you Amanda’s boyfriend?”
My spider-sense tells me that there’s at least 20 ears hanging on my every word. I just look at her eyes, and notice they’re the same colour as Amanda’s. And I think;
Thursday, hold Amanda as she cries into my chest – twice. Gaze lovingly at her bare bum for half an hour and masturbate next to it. Have a bit of a chuckle about it afterwards. Amanda bears witness to my family unit turning itself inside out for an hour, then settle back to normality.
Friday, spend the morning getting sweaty and having a good laugh with Amanda as we put a fence up. Get a drink. Have a laugh, see each other naked, she performs a sexual act on me, culminating with her swallowing my come. Share a shower where we simulate the act of making love without actually doing it. Clean up, go back to hospital. Grab a burger, watch a movie (more heavy petting), then go home.

I realise how much I enjoyed being with her, but can’t remember a time when I wasn’t holding her hand.
“Yes, I think I might be.” The girls giggle, jump a bit, and a couple even say ‘yay’ or whatever girls do in situations like this. The girls beam at me as I finally make my way into Tasha’s room, taking out my phone as I open the door.
At first, I think a florists’ has exploded. There are flowers and teddies everywhere. Tasha sees me and smiles, giving a little wave. I don’t interrupt as she’s got a couple of friends with her, but notice my mother in the high-backed chair, Tommy on her lap, asleep, and Tasha’s headmaster in the corner of the room. I quickly bring up Amanda’s number on my phone and write;
‘Hi. Sorry if I’ve overstepped the mark, but I just mighta sorta told your schoolfriends that you’re my girlfriend.’ I pocket the phone and walk over to the headmaster, shaking his hand.
“Good morning”
“Good morning”
“I never knew my sister was so popular”
“Well, truth be told, since your sister is so concentrated on her academic studies she doesn’t have a lot of time for socialising. She spends her lunchtimes in the library.”
“Really? I knew she liked studying but I never knew she was that into it. I hope she’s not working too hard, she’ll burn herself out.”

“Oh, no. I believe she keeps her weekends free. You told me.” Recalling the events of the previous weekend, yes, I think she does. “Anyway, your sister is well liked, and after the accident most of the girls begged the faculty that they be allowed to come and visit. I was glad to make the trip, actually, nothing for me to do today but fill out risk assessment forms for the Open Day next month.” Fascinating.
Friends are brought in two at a time, and their reactions to Tasha vary greatly. The smaller girls are stand-offish, just handing over the flowers and teddy bears and asking silly little questions, while the more brash girls come straight out and ask to see the war wounds, normally responding with ‘cool!’ when Tasha lifts her hair to show off the larger gash on the back of her head. I’m reminded of a movie press junket, where journalists get to speak to movie stars for 5 minutes at a time, answering the same questions over and over. She handles herself quite well.
My pocket buzzes, and I pull out my phone to see Amanda’s responded;
‘That’s ok, because I mighta sorta told everyone you’re my boyfriend.’ This is followed by several smileys and love hearts.
I’ve got a girlfriend. Cool.
Eventually, the last two girls are brought in, and while they sit on the bed to talk to Tasha I turn to the head.
“You know Tasha’s not my sister?” I’m not looking straight at him, but see him sigh.
“Yes, I did. As her headmaster I had to know. For a large number of boring reasons. It really wasn’t my place to tell you.”
“No, it’s ok, I understand.”

“When did you find out?”
“Thursday. In this room. Got quite emotional. I hate to say Amanda was here when the fireworks went off, but it ended well. Plus she spent most of the day with me on Friday and she seemed fine.”
“Oh. You and Amanda are…?” I can hear the levels of concern in his voice.
“You don’t have to worry. It’s very early days, we don’t know where this will take us, but I won’t let it get in the way of her schoolwork. I promise.” He seems ok with this (like I actually care).
“You’re 18, I believe.” Another loaded question.
“Yes, there’s 4 years between us, but I suddenly found out there’s 9 years between my ‘parents’, so that’s something else you don’t have to worry about.” He gets the meaning, and it’s well timed as the last two girls get up from Tasha’s bed, the Headmaster shakes my hand again, thanks my mother and apologises for the intrusion, then leaves.
“That’s a lot of flowers.”
“I know, it’s really starting to hit my hay fever.” Mum starts looking in her handbag.
“You and me both sweetie.” She hands Tasha some tiny tablets. Anti-histamines. “It’s been killing me since the first lot came in, but I didn’t want to say anything, they were all so nice to you.” She looks up and smiles at me, I smile back, relieved the atmosphere is so genial, but suddenly I have an image of various sex toys flashing across my mind and I’m feeling awkward again. I hope I’m hiding it.

I sit on the chair right beside the bed as mum tells us she has to go into town for a few things. She loads Tommy into his buggy, gives both of us a kiss on our cheeks, and backs out of the door behind me. I turn back to Tasha and I’m shocked to see an incredibly stern look on her face.
“What did I do?” I’m actually a little scared of her, she looks exactly like mum used to before I found out she wasn’t my mum.
“Everyone’s been telling me that you and Amanda are boyfriend and girlfriend.” She slaps my hand, quite hard. “Why wasn’t I informed?”
“Well, in my defence, I didn’t actually know we were an item until I got here.”
“How do you mean?”
So I explain the conversation I had with the girls outside (Christine and Sarah, apparently), and the sudden reasoning I had to do.
“This doesn’t change anything between us, you know. I don’t want to sound like I’m going behind Amanda’s back, but… Oh crap” I lean forward and put my forehead on the bed beside her hip, my hands on the back of my head. I bury my mouth into the mattress and yell.
“I never knew having a love life could be so fucking complicated.” Tasha starts stroking my hair. It’s nice.
“From what I’ve heard, they aren’t as complicated as yours.” I keep my face down.
“Explain.” she sighs.
“You’re currently engaging in semi-sexual relations simultaneously with two underage girls, one of whom, until recently, you thought was your sister, and the other one, nearly killed the former (who until recently, you thought was your sister) with a hockey stick, and now, you’re officially an item with the latter, as an official loving relationship with the former would be deemed morally reprehensible, what with everyone thinking we’re still blood relatives.” I’m guessing she’s been going through this a lot over the weekend. “Did I… miss anything?”
“Yeah, I had a wank while looking at her arse when she fell asleep”

She gasps dramatically. Then laughs.
“You fucking perv! Have you told her?”
“Yes”
“When?”
“During an afternoon showing of Les Miserables”
“Didn’t she mind?”
“Don’t think so, I had my hand down her pants when I told her”
“You classy bastard.” I sit up and laugh, we both do. “So what did you guys do the other day? She never actually told me.”
So I tell her about Amanda helping me with the fence. She accuses me of making Amanda do all the work. It’s when I get to the part where Amanda wanted to change clothes that Tasha really begins to take an interest.
“That’s when you called me. Did she find anything that fits?”
“No, but she did try on one of your t-shirts. You were right about her tits. She tried on this yellow shirt without a bra and it looked like one huge boob under there.”
“Ha! I hope she hasn’t stretched it.”
“T-shirts are stretchy, I’d be more worried about the jeans she squeezed into.”
“She got into my jeans? Jesus! I bet she had trouble getting them off.”
“Actually, they came off pretty easily….” Damn. Sneaky cow.
“I knew it. You two had sex didn’t you?”
“No, actually no, we didn’t.”
“Don’t worry, I’m not jealous. I told you, you two are made for each other.” She actually makes herself comfortable, folds her arms and looks at me like I’m about to tell a bedtime story. “Well? What happened, and don’t you dare leave anything out.”
So I start regaling her with the story of Friday. Amanda coming over, watching the movie, helping me with the fence, trying on her clothes, then as I get to the part where Amanda and I are staring at each other in the bathroom, she stops me.

“What are her tits like?”
“You’ve never seen them? I thought that’s what girls did on sleepovers. Try on clothes, get naked and talk bollocks about boys.” She shrugs.
“Maybe, but her tits grew three sizes in about 6 months. She was always shy about them, so even though she’s seen mine, I haven’t seen hers. She always keeps her bras on. So come on, what are they like?”
“Well, they’re about a C or D. I don’t really know sizes.”
“She’s halfway.”
“Whatever. They’re huge for a 14 year old. Big, pale nipples. Very sensitive.”
“What do they feel like?” This line of questioning is very odd.
“Well, they feel like yours, only…” She looks down at her chest, her tiny bosom hardly making an impression in her hospital gown.
“Smaller.” Conversation taken a crappy turn.
“Look, sis. I’ve told you, I love your tits. I love the way they feel, plus I bet I can get a whole one in my mouth.” She giggles, looks at the door and lifts up her gown.
“Go on then.” I look over my shoulder and comply. I give it a good go, it obviously tickles as she’s squirming and laughing as I try to get her whole left tit in my mouth. I more or less get the whole thing in with a lot of sucking, plus I’m flicking her tiny nipple with my tongue. Might as well while it’s in there. Eventually she manages to push me off. All the laughing has obviously hurt her face slightly. The swelling’s eased considerably, and there’s going to be a hell of a bruise, but she’s still smiling. I give her breast a rub, my saliva moisturising her skin. She lays back on her pillow as I rub.

“So what happened next?” So I tell her about Amanda sitting on my bed, topless, asking to look at and touch my cock. As I tell her this my hand slides down her tight belly and I start running my finger along the top of her underwear. Without a word she moves her legs further apart, and I get a finger under the elastic waistband, still moving from side to side.
I may have exaggerated and embellished the story a bit for her benefit, but her breathing was getting harder, so I thought I’d help her along a bit. I tell her about the warmth of Amanda’s hand as she started to jerk me off, and the sight of her tits jigging as her hand moved. My hand is now in Tasha’s knickers, my fingers running through her soft pubic hair as I head south. I manage to reach her clitoris and start gently massaging it when I tell her about Amanda taking my cock in her mouth as I came.
“She did what?” she sits up slightly, breathless but shocked
“She put my cock in her mouth, I came. She swallowed.” I’m still rubbing Tasha’s little clit as she lies back on the bed.
“That dirty cow. I wanted to be the first to give you a blow job.”
“You still can be, she didn’t technically suck me off. I was already coming when she started sucking.” A pause as I rub, her eyes are closed, and her nipples are definitely starting to make an impression on her gown now. I reach up with my spare hand and start rubbing them through the cloth.
“So was that it?”
“No, we had a little cuddle on the bed. Then she asked me to join her in the shower.”
“So you saw her naked then?” I nod as I rub the length of my finger along her clit, dipping the tip of my finger into the entrance of her vagina. She’s incredibly warm, and incredibly wet.
“Did you fuck her then? I would have.” I explain how Amanda closed her legs around my dick, holding it against her pussy as I fucked her thighs. Tasha’s getting bloody close when there’s a knock at the door.

We quickly arrange her bedsheets and gown as the door opens and a nurse pops her head in.
“Can I get you anything dear?” My finger is still inside my sister’s labia.
“Um… no, I’m fine, thank you.” The nurse looks at Tasha’s cheek.
“Are you sure dear? You look a little flushed, and that dressing is weeping.” She comes into the room, opens the window, comes over to the bed and starts getting some medical bandages out of the bedside cabinet. I’m stuck. I can’t move my arm, hidden under the bedsheet, unless the nurse sees me moving. So we’re there for at least 5 minutes, Tasha trying to act normal, with every involuntary tiny movement of my finger sending a jolt through her body. To make it worse, the tenseness of the situation has made her pussy juices dry up. I really am stuck to my sister. If I tried to slide my finger out I’d probably hurt her. So we wait, until the nurse (who appears to take pride in her work) is finished. Eventually she gets up and leaves, with the promise of cold drinks for the both of us.
“Fuck! I was nearly there!”
“I know, but we’d better not do that again. Not here anyway”. So I manage to peel her lips off my finger. I give her clit a little tickle, and remove my hand.
“Good job I brought you some spare knickers. You’re soaking down there.”
“Really?” She checks. “Wow! I’ve never been that wet before.
“Must have been all that imagining of Amanda’s body. What was that about anyway? Not on the turn?” She blushes
“No, I just appreciate the beautiful things in life, and I happen to envy her figure. I’d kill to see her naked though.”
“well, the way things are going with us three, that’ll probably happen sooner or later. I just hope I can take it.” She beams.

“You’ll be fine. We’ll take care of you.” She gets out of bed, takes off her sodden knickers, throws them at me, flashes her pussy, then darts into the en-suite bathroom (posh hospital) with her bag to put a fresh pair on. I hear running water so I guess she’s taking a shower.
Taking a seat in the high-backed chair, my phone buzzes in my pocket. A text from my girlfriend.
‘Hi’
‘Hi’
‘You at the +pital?’
‘Yeah. Loads of schoolfriends were here. Didn’t see you’
‘missed too much schoolwork already’ (swot) ‘how’s T?’
‘Good. She just made me tell her about Friday’
‘OMG! You didn’t?’
‘I did, I think she wants to lez up with you’
This brought a long pause, leading me to check my signal.
‘tell her it’s mutual. I gotta go. When will I see you?’
‘Sat?’
‘it’s a date. Love you xxx’
‘love you too.’
Probably don’t just yet, but it feels nice to say it. Tasha comes out of the en-suite. I can see knickers under her gown and she’s drying her hair.
“Just been talking to Amanda. She says she wants to fuck your brains out” She laughs
“Don’t blame her, I would too if I was her.” The door opens again and her doctor walks in.
“Is your mother here?”
“No, my brother is, he’s over 18 so you can talk to him.” The doc turns to me. Indian (shocker), glasses, old, sterotype.

“Very well, your sister’s health is improving very well. She should be able to go home tomorrow.” Tasha slumps on the bed, several teddies fall to the floor.
“Tomorrow? I’m booooored. I want to get back doing stuff. I need to get back to school.” The doctor looks at me. I shrug.
“Teenagers!”
“Well my dear, I said you could go home, but I fear school is another week away. You had a rather nasty concussion, you mustn’t rush these things. Head injuries are unpredictable. You need to let your brain heal. No mental exercises. Afternoon TV should be a helpful healing aid. Nothing too challenging.
“Great. So my prescription is Philip Schofield and Jeremy effing Kyle.”
“Precisely. Nothing challenging at all. Now, relax, try to get some more sleep and I’ll see you tomorrow to give you your discharge papers.” She’s not happy, but gets back into bed. I hold her hand and we shoot the shot for a couple of hours until mum gets back. My hand firmly above the covers.

Thursday
Tasha came home Tuesday, and mum’s treating her with kid gloves. Chasing after her, asking if she needs anything. I think Tasha’s relishing the positive attention, rather than having extra-curricular activities shoved down her throat. I leave them to it as I have to give my car an oil change. My car’s a mk2 Mondeo, no parental freebies in our house, we pay for privileges. Well, I do.
I’m under the car waiting for the oil to drain when I hear piano music. Tasha’s very good, but this is Ode to Joy. I didn’t know she could play that. Walking over the French windows I look in to see mum playing the piano, with Tasha sitting beside her. After while Tasha joins in lower down the keys. I never knew mum could play, and seeing them sitting together smiling and looking like twins is something I’ll remember for a long time.
Oh, then they lezzed out for half an hour. Kidding.
Anyhoo, the rest of the day and Wednesday were dull and gentle affairs. Dad constantly called during the day to check and talk to Tasha. We weren’t exactly a dysfunctional family but this near-fatal accident has really brought us closer together.
Thursday started ok, but for some reason mum started to act quite agitated early afternoon. While the last few days had been fine, she suddenly started avoiding me again, avoiding eye contact and obviously leaving a room if I was the only one in there. It was during a rather brutal game of monopoly between Tasha and myself (I was winning for once) that mum came up to us and said she had to go out at short notice, could we look after Tommy, and she’d call us later to let us know what time she’d be back. I was about to ask where she was going when Tasha cut across me.

“Ok mum. We’ll look after Tommy. Take care.” We hear the door close, and the car leaving the driveway.
“What was that about?” Tasha shrugs.
“No idea. Wait here” and with that she rushes upstairs. Presumably to check on our little brother. I sit back down at the board and start counting my bank so far. Not bad, even if I do say so myself. I detect movement to my left and see Tasha standing by the door, in just some tight knickers and a tighter vest top with skinny straps that hold her figure nicely.
“Oh, hello. You appear to have misplaced some clothing.”
“No, I know exactly where it is.” She shows me the PJs in her hand. Large, baggy, unflattering. “Just in case.” I’m sitting on the floor with my back to the sofa, so stretch out my arms across the cushions. I’m anticipating sauciness when;
“Right, whose go is it?” She sits down, cross-legged on the rug opposite me. I’m immediately aware of the slight bulge of her pussy mound in her knickers. I experience a ‘stirring’ in my loins.
“Pardon?”
“Whose go? You’re winning, we can’t have that.” So we continue to actually play monopoly, but I think the skimpy attire is merely a distraction, as I can’t help staring at her erect nipples and pussy , clearly visible through the thin material. I tell her my suspicions as she picks up another chance card, winning second prize in a beauty contest.
“Well, I had to up the ante somehow. I can’t have you taking advantage of my addled brain, you know.” So we play on, and I start losing, mainly because I’m not paying attention to the game. Can’t have this. I excuse myself for a toilet break, and strip down to my jockey shorts. She’s looking as hot as fuck, bruised face and all, so I’m starting to pitch a tent.

Without bragging, I look after myself, I’ve got a moderately good body (all the fucking chores helped), and the shorts are accentuating my bulge, so I sit down, cross legged, with my arms back across the sofa. I’ve got large pecs, so I’m trying to look fabulous. I guess it works as she looks up as I sit down, and throws the dice down.
“Oh, now that’s not fucking fair.”
“All’s fair in love and war sweetie.” We continue to play, but I can see her eyes darting to my bulge. I start stroking the inside of my thigh. Does nothing for me, but she’s clearly getting annoyed at the distraction. Again, she’s losing.
“Right!” she sits up and rips off her vest top. Sitting there in just her knickers, her wonderful breasts jiggling as she shakes the dice. I stare, but I’m used to breasts, even ones as wonderful as hers. I’ve lurked in enough TYFTT threads to know it’s the touching that counts, so with this in mind, I think I have a deuce in hand. The game continues, and our accounts are pretty even. It’s her turn to use the ‘toilet break’ excuse, but she takes her time, so I have a quick count. There’s only a few hundred in it, so an unlucky roll could end this quickly. I hear her entering the room but don’t look up.

“Your turn” She sits down opposite me, same position, and at first glance my suspicions are confirmed. She’s taken her knickers off, so she’s completely naked, but looking again, I see something new. She’s completely bald down there. I look up, my face must be a picture, but she just looks smug as hell and rolls the dice, jiggling her tits again. I simply cannot stop looking at her pussy. She’s done a good job as it looks perfectly smooth, just like Amanda’s. Even though her legs are apart, there’s only a small separation of her slit. I can just make out her clit hood. It looks moist.
She lands on ‘go to jail’ and swears. She’s there until she rolls a double, so I saunter around the board. She obviously hasn’t got any more clothes to discard so she unfolds her legs, spreading them far apart, leans against the chair behind her and starts tracing the contours of her body, down her pelvis, and stroking the sides of her pussy. I’m fully erect by now, and it’s starting to hurt, so shunning any excuse, I stand up and whip off my shorts. My cock springs up, and her eyes widen as she stares. I sit back down, same position, and beckon her to roll the dice while my dick points at her. Finally, she rolls a double, and gets off her square.
My turn, I roll to old Kent Road. Mine, so no rent to pay. I stroke my cock once or twice, she stares.
Her roll. She just avoids the Go to jail square again. She strokes her pussy, running her finger up and down her slit, her breathing sounding heavy like before.
My Roll. Just visiting. I lean back, cradling my balls and squeezing the base of my cock, making the veins bulge.

She rolls, she lands on Mayfair. Mine. 2 hotels. She bankrupts. She Jumps off the floor and lands on me, planting her mouth on mine and we kiss passionately, rolling over the board. I ignore the stabs of pain from the little plastic hotels and metal playing pieces (I was the car, she the little doggie) digging into my back. I stand up, lifting her with me as she wraps her legs around my waist. I’m amazed she hasn’t come up for breath as she continues to kiss me, her tongue exploring my mouth.
In the back of my mind is my self-imposed rule, (No aggressive dominance) so I move back to the sofa, and lay down on it, holding her as we continue to kiss, finally relaxing slightly as the initial fire dies, but the lust still hangs between us. I stroke her body, hands all the way down her back, cupping her little bum, my fingers reaching around and inbetween, fingers dipping into her vagina from behind, dripping wet once again. After we calm down some more (circumstances permitting) I finally shift position. I spin her around and lay beside her, kissing her gently, moving down to her neck, collarbone, chest, nipples, which I spend a few minutes sucking and nibbling. My right hand has moved down to her pussy and I’m stroking her clit like I did at the hospital. Her whole body is writhing gently as I continue moving down her body, kissing her tummy, her belly button, and I move onto her pelvic area.
I knew what my ultimate goal was, but I wasn’t sure if she did until I kiss the now hairless area and she puts her hand gently on the top of my head. I take this as tacit approval of my intentions, so I shift off the sofa, and turn her slightly. Raising her knees, I start to kiss the inside of her thighs, starting halfway up and slowly moving down, keeping my eyes on the prize as I move. Her breathing is becoming heavier and more ragged in anticipation of my contact, and she shudders as I place my lips square on her closed but warm pussy lips.

I kiss and gently suck the soft tissue on her pubic bone until I eventually use my tongue to separate her lips. She’s very wet again, and while I wasn’t sure what to expect, it simply tastes of musty water, with a subtle tang of something. I don’t care what of as I’m too busy diving my tongue into my sister’s pussy, exploring the folds and crevices, dipping my tongue into her vagina as she places her other hand on the back of my head and pushes me down. I find her clitoris and concentrate on it, sucking and gently nibbling the little bead. Her thighs come up and I can feel her pussy swelling against my face as she nears her climax. Suddenly she shifts her body away from my face, bringing my head up and we rise, her face meeting mine, kissing me again, not caring I have her vaginal lubrication all over my chin.
We kiss deeply, when I’m suddenly aware of warmth at the end of my dick. She must have experienced something too as we stop, and look down between us.
She is sitting on the edge of the sofa cushion, legs wide. I’m kneeling on the carpet between them. My penis is fully erect, and as I’ve straightened up, the tip is touching the entrance to her vagina. It’s there, all I have to do is move my hips. All she has to do is move hers. I can feel the heat emanating from her, inviting me in. I can feel how wet she is, penetration would be easy. I can see how red and swollen her lips are. She can see how engorged and swollen my dick is, precum dripping from the tip.
We look at each other, breathing heavily into each other’s’ face. We know what we want, we know what we don’t want.
“I really want you to fuck me.”

It’s not a plea, or request. It’s a small moan of frustration and despair. She has a look of deep passion on her face, but also confusion and sadness. I can feel the coiled spring in my pelvis. My hands are on her hips, I can feel the tension there too. Our bodies want each other, and if we weren’t so fucking sensible, we’d be a writing mass of limbs and skin, fucking each other’s brains out on the Axminster, but we are sensible. She’s 14, not on the pill, and the amount of cum I would have deposited inside her probably would have given her quadruplets.
“I really want to fuck you.” My dick is still there, but we’ve both backed off. She reaches down and grabs it. Stroking it gently, like Amanda did. My hand moves down to her pussy and I’m amazed at how wet and inflamed her pussy lips are. I slip a finger inside, then another. It’s tight, and I’m sure I can feel the remnants of her hymen as I push both fingers inside. I hook them up and start sliding them in and out, making sure I contact her clitoris with every movement. She pulls at my cock as I pump her vagina (Taking my tips from the awesome video on Pornhub where that guy massages his girlfriend until she comes constantly for 5 minutes – look it up).
Again, she comes, hard. Her tugging becomes erratic as she loses concentration, stopping as she comes down. After a while she gets up and beckons me to lie on the sofa (good, my knees were killing me kneeling on the carpet for that long).
“My turn.” And she lays on me, kissing my body as she moves down to my cock. She grabs it in her right hand and gingerly opens her mouth, hesitating, then lowering her head until my dick is in her mouth, her soft lips closing around the shaft. She holds still for a while, but starts moving her head up and down. It’s clumsy to start with, and I feel teeth a few times, but eventually she gets a good rhythm, her hand pumping the rest of my dick she can’t get in her mouth.

She makes small moaning sounds, coupled with her heavy breathing, and it’s not long before I can feel the build up again, but this feels like a big one. I have half a mind to warn her, but can’t get the words out as I place my hands on her head and help with the rhythm. I manage a whisper;
“I’m coming” She nods, says ‘mm-hm’ and carries on sucking. My hips buck as the first shot explodes in her mouth. She stops and backs off slightly, letting my come fill her mouth. Just as Amanda did, she holds it there for a while as I finally finish coming. She gives a couple more sucks and raises her head. Sitting back on her bum, she looks at me, her cheeks puffed out.
“You don’t have to…” but she raises a finger, closes her eyes, and swallows noisily. She doesn’t gag, or make a funny face.
“I guess it must be an acquired taste.” She relaxes and smiles at me, a little come dribbling out the side of her mouth, which I point out. She scoops it up with a finger and sucks it.
“You ok?”
“Yes, thank you. That was fucking awesome.”
“That was fucking close. I was this close to putting it in you.”
“I really wanted you to. I’m impressed at your restraint actually.”
We stay there for a while, looking at each other. I start to get soft, and a little bead of come leaks out of my dick.
“Oops, don’t make a mess!” and she picks up my dick again, puts it back in her mouth and sucks the dregs of come out of my cock, holding it in her mouth for a moment, I feel her tongue massage the base. She swallows, smiles, kisses me on the forehead, picks up her clothes and walks out to the kitchen as I slip my shorts back on and start hunting for the scattered monopoly pieces.
“Want a beer?” She’s going to make someone a good wife.

Not long after that (and after we’d got redressed and the front room was back in order) mum returned, looking happier and less agitated. Still no eye contact but smiling.
“How’s Tommy?” This is to Tasha
“Sparko. Gave him a little drink earlier but he zonked back out. Haven’t heard a peep since.”
“That’s good. So what did you two get up to?”
“Nothing, just watched Die Hard and had a game of monopoly.”
“Pretty boring evening then.”
“I wouldn’t say that. I quite like Die Hard”

Tasha crept in with me again that night, but we didn’t get up to anything. There’s a lot to be said for just holding someone close while you sleep. However, when my alarm went off (forgot to turn it off) I did take a look under my duvet to discover that while she was wearing her vest top, her knickers were under her pillow. I took a chance and felt her newly shorn mound, she had indeed done a good job, and I wonder what inspired her to shave it off. I guess she’s been chatting to Amanda about the benefits of being hairless. As I was having a feel, she started to stir. I couldn’t hear any noises from anyone else in the house, so continued rubbing. She still seemed to be asleep, but was making all the right noises as once again I stroked her clitoris. I immediately regretted it as she let out a moan that could easily be heard in the next room. I freeze, and stop moving, listening for the slightest sound of anyone else in the house. Nothing.
So I just lay there watching her sleep with my hand on her pussy until I drop off again. She wakes me up with a kiss an hour later and we go down for breakfast. Tasha’s back at school Monday, so she asks me to take her there so she can pick up anything she needs to catch up. I tell her it’s against doctor’s orders but I know she won’t listen, so about midday we head out.

We arrive at the school just as the kids are breaking for lunch. I see a few familiar faces from the hospital and a few come over to speak to Tasha. Some say hi to me first, which was nice, and it’s not long before we bump into Amanda. She smiles meekly and is a little standoffish. I feel a little worried until Tasha whispers in my ear.
“It’s common knowledge she’s your girlfriend now, and the school has strict rules about ‘fraternizing’ in the grounds. So no touching, no holding hands, no kissing, no heavy petting, no bombing and no diving.” So we exchange an awkward ‘hello’, and she comes with us (on the other side of Tasha) to reception. My sister stands in the middle of us at the desk as we wait for her teacher to come out to us. The girls are nattering away about girl stuff when I feel something touching my fingers. Amanda’s reached out behind Tasha (and out of sight of the receptionist) to hold my hand. It’s weird but I feel slightly naughty, breaking the rules in such an outrageous way, the fact she’s had my dick in her mouth seems tame by comparison.
There’s a small cough from behind us as Tasha’s teacher walks up the corridor to the desk. Amanda and I break hands, the teacher looks over her glasses at me. I mouth ‘sorry’ and suddenly I feel 8 years old again. Tasha is given a list of things to research and study (meaning she’ll be on the PC all weekend). She thanks the teacher and we leave. Amanda comes out with us to the car, and manages to sneak a quick but tongue-filled kiss before she’s spotted. Tasha tells her we’ll see her tomorrow and we drive out.

“Is that place run by nuns or something?” She laughs.
“You’d think so, but no. They’re strict because they know how damaging boyfriends can be to a girl’s concentration, so it’s a blanket ban. The only reason you’re allowed in the door is you’re my brother. Sort of.”
“The headmaster knows we’re not actually brother and sister, you know.”
“Yes, I thought he would.”
“Won’t that matter?”
“No, as far as he’s concerned, as we’ve grown up since childhood, we’ve regarded each other as siblings. It wouldn’t even cross his mind that we regularly dine on each other’s genitalia”. So clinical.
“’Regularly?’ We’ve only done that the once.”
“Yes, but I sincerely hope you intend to do it again. I know I do.” We exchange knowing smiles, and she puts her hand on my leg.
“That’s a point, why did you shave?”
“It just came to me. I knew you wouldn’t expect it. Plus Amanda said you enjoyed her lack of hair so I thought I’d treat you.”
“So, does she shave?”
“Actually, no. She just hasn’t grown any yet. It happens. Her boobs came in really quickly, so she’s more concerned about the monthly size changes than what’s happening downstairs.” She starts reading the list of references she has to research. “I missed so much while I was off. I’m going to have to get straight on with this.”
“Hey, remember what the doc said, so no excessive thinking. I know that’s tricky for that super-quick brain of yours.”
“Yeah, that’s a point. Can I borrow yours so I don’t strain myself?”

“Oh, har-de-har.” I reach across and grab a hold of her boob, giving it a squeeze and then moving my hand down inbetween her legs and tickling the inside of her thighs, getting a sneaky grope in every now and again. I nearly lose control of the car as she brings her knees up as she laughs, so I pack it in and behave until we get home. She gets out her reading glasses, heads straight for the PC in the lounge and starts looking stuff up. It’s best not to disturb her in learning mode, so I offer to make her some lunch. She nods acceptance while staring at the screen, so I get her a sandwich (which I know won’t get touched) and put Galaxy Quest on the TV, with the volume down so I won’t disturb her.
Eventually, I hear a cry of frustration from the next room. She walks through to me, glasses as a headband, leaning on the door frame, and in her most simpering voice;
“That computer’s crap, it takes ages to switch windows (true, it’s a ‘family PC’. i.e. shitty specs, still running ME. I shit you not.) Can I use yours?” I’ve got a modest battlestation upstairs, 3 monitors, but a fairly decent setup.
“Sure, grab your stuff and come up.” It takes a while to find all the necessary cables to hook the two outside monitors back up, she plonks her arse on my chair and gets to work, throwing browser windows across the monitors and getting her chess face on. I leave her to it.
About an hour later I go back up to check on her, opening the door to see her exactly where I left her, but only wearing her knickers. Still working and writing things down, just virtually naked.

“Um.. everything ok?” She looks at me, then down at her body, seemingly forgotten she’s topless.
“Oh, yeah, I’m good, my back got a bit sweaty.” I take a moment to take in the pleasant view. She’s tied her hair up in a ponytail, and I can see the shaven area on the back of her head I’d completely forgotten about. I look around the room and spot the clothes she’d taken off, and spot the dark red stain on her shirt.
“What the fuck?” I walk around behind Tasha to see the gash on the back of her head has opened, and blood is smeared all down her back.
“You’re bleeding”
“What?”
“You’re bleeding, not sweating, you’re covered in blood.” Still she doesn’t take her eyes off the screen. I rush to the bathroom to get the little first aid kit we keep in there and take out a large melonin pad. I put my hand on her forehead and the pad on the wound. Still she works and I figure out what’s happened. For all her smarts, she’s not a fantastic typist. In fact, she envies me for my typing speed, so she does that thing where she types a string of words, then looks up at the screen to check her spelling, then back down to type, then back up again. Having done this for an hour, the constant movement has split the stitches and hence the blood.
“You need to stop, this looks bad.”
“Head wounds are bad bleeders anyway, the doctor said so. I’m nearly done. Just a few more minutes.”
“Tasha, come on…”
“No, look, one more paragraph and I’m done.”
“Fine, then dictate. Here.” I put her hand on the pad, tell her to apply pressure, and we switch so I can finish her homework for her. I transfer her document to a flash drive (I don’t have a printer), pocket the drive and shoo her into the bathroom so I can wash the blood off. The blood’s stained her knickers too, so she takes them off and I’m treated to the sight of a little naked body shivering as I wash off the blood as she stands in the shower.

She’s still holding the pad as she steps out so it’s up to me to dry her off. She wraps a towel around her body as we go into her bedroom so she can get a change of clothes. I call the number of the hospital we were given and tell them what’s happened, they say to just apply pressure until the blood stops, then put another melonin over it held down with micropore tape, and no more homework.
“Yes dad.” She sulks. I get her some clothes as she sits on the bed. She opens her towel and lies down across the mattress, giving me a very sultry look. It’s a very inviting sight, but I look around the room, and all the teddy bears from her friends are piled up everywhere. There’s a pervading sense of pinkness, and as I look down at her beautiful naked body, with her small breasts and suddenly hairless mound, she looks 11 again, and I’m very uneasy about starting anything sexual in this room. I don’t want to upset her, so I kneel down, part her knees, get between them and cradle her head as I bring her up to a sitting position. I move her hand holding the antiseptic pad away and it’s properly covered in blood. I don’t think a simple pad is going to do the trick.

“We need to get this looked at, I don’t think it’s going to calm down any time soon.” She looks at me with an upset expression, but I think she gets my emotions right now. I’m more concerned about blood loss than I am with cunnilingus, so I help her get dressed. I have to choose a different top as the one I selected is one of her favourites and she doesn’t want it to get covered in blood. I do appease her slightly by kissing just above her pussy as I pull her knickers on, but the bleeding’s getting worrisome, so I stop fucking around and get her to casualty (ER) as fast as my 18 year old car will take us.

As I feared, the constant movement of her head has ruptured the stitches, so we wait a couple of hours until she can get sewn up again. There’s an awkward moment when the doctor I spoke to comes in and chastises her for not following doctor’s orders, so I promise I’ll keep her on a tight leash. We get back home and I thrust her down on the sofa. Tell her to ‘stay!’, and tell her to choose a DVD to watch. She chooses Notting Hill, which is one of my guilty pleasures, so I make a brew and we cuddle up on the sofa. Natch she cries at the end, but then it’s my turn to choose, so I pick How to Train your Dragon. Yes, it’s a kid’s film, but it’s awesome, and I have a proper thing for Astrid. Mum comes home from wherever about 5, we have dinner, I fill her in on the dramatic events of the day. She thanks me for looking after Tasha, and I get the most fleeting moments of eye contact. Her head doesn’t explode so I’m assuming she’s ok as well. Pissing about on t’internet for a while I spot a showing of Hansel & Gretel I wouldn’t mind seeing. Tasha asks if she can come, but it’s a 15, and she’d never pass for a 15-year-old in her life.
“Oz is on”
“Is that the one with Franco?”
“Yep.” We’re agreed he’s an overrated actor, but Mila Kunis is in it (Bless Chris Stark), so I convince her it might be watchable despite the one-trick-pony, so we get ready to head out. I pop onto /b/ to inform the masses of another updates, and we head out.
Our opinion: 6/10. Meh.
We get home, and dad’s got back from work. Hugs all round, bit of TV before Tasha tells us she’s really tired, and is going to bed. We can’t really do anything too obvious in front of the parents, so I get a small peck on the cheek and she heads up.
“How’s she been today?” This was dad.
“She’s been ok. She just tried to get back into things before she was ready.” Dad gives a little chuckle.
“I know where she gets that from.”

I have no idea what he meant by that, but I grab us both another beer as we watch TV. I drain my bottle, say goodnight, and head upstairs. Tommy’s asleep, so I check in on Tasha. She really must have been tired as she’s still fully clothed. I move her into a comfortable position, and remove her glasses and jogging trousers. I leave her T-shirt and knickers on just in case our parents decide to check on her too. I sneak in a quick nipple stroke, run my fingers over her pussy and give her a peck on the lips as I cover her over, stroking her hair as I tuck her in. Back in my room I check my phone and I have a text from Amanda;
‘Cnt w8 2 c u 2moro. My turn 2 giv u bj’. It takes me a second or two to decipher the textspeak, but once I figure it out, I send her a text back.
’69?’. There’s a colossal pause. Then my phone rings. I quickly answer so it doesn’t disturb anyone.
“Yes.” She whispers.
“Tasha told you?”
“She may have mentioned it. It sounded… intense.”
“It was close, I was that close to actually having sex with her.”
“She said. I’m impressed, I wouldn’t have held back.”
“Well, we had to be smart, she’s not on the pill.”
“I am.”
“Oh.”
“It’s a medical thing. Doctor’s orders.” I think I know what she means, the pill isn’t just a contraceptive.
“Ok. I understand. Well, it’s something to think about.”
“Don’t think about it too long. I want you.”
“I want you too.” Another pause.
“What time are three we meeting up?” We arrange a time, and we both hang up, promising to dream of each other. Little bit sappy, sorry.

SATURDAY.
I wake up by myself, but I know today should be interesting so I shift my arse before I’m properly awake. Tasha’s in the bathroom brushing her teeth, still wearing what I put her to bed in. She’s still got her hair in a pony tail and she’s holding up a mirror behind her head to look at the damage. She can’t quite get the angle so I take the mirror off her and hold it so she can see it properly.
“Oh crap. That looks bad.”
“Yep, you’ll probably have a scar now.” She looks a little sheepish. “Told you not to push yourself. I know you like your schoolwork, ya weirdo, but rules is rules.” I put the mirror down and hug her from behind, no groping, but her nipples show themselves and I stare at them as she finishes brushing her teeth.
“What’s the plan?”
“I’m up for whatever, but nothing too girly.” After she retreats to her bedroom, I hear her getting a few texts messages and she pops her head back into the bathroom, I’m nearly naked as I’m getting into the shower.
“Amanda says… oh!” Her eyes give me the once over. “Don’t stop on my account.” So I slowly remove the rest of my clothing, standing up slowly and theatrically. There’s a moment of silence.
“Yes? Amanda said what?”
“She said we can go shopping?” I tut and get into the shower. Turning on the water I raise my voice.
“That’s a little bit girly.”
“It’s Lakeside, it’s not just girly shops, you know. Plus there’s an Ann Summers we were thinking of popping into.” Suddenly I’m awash with all sorts of inappropriate visions, and little fella stands to attention.
“Yeah, alright then.” She opens the shower door, beckons me down to her height for a kiss, holds the base of my dick, deftly also cupping my balls for a second or five, then goes back to her room to get changed.

Lakeside’s a fair drive, about an hour away, so after we picked up Amanda, I stopped off for petrol (£1.42 p/litre. Jesus fucking Christ) and grabbed some snacks for the trip. Both the girls are in the back as I don’t want to pick one over the other. Driving is impeded somewhat as I keep getting distracted by one or the other flashing their boobs at the rear view mirror.
Eventually we get there, park outside the cinema and make our way in. Amanda’s holding my hand, but Tasha is just staying close, for the look of the thing. Every now and again we make contact, so she doesn’t feel left out.
Once we start shopping I teeter dangerously close to the friendzone, holding their stuff while they pick out various clothes and girly stuff. I can’t tell one shade of blue from another but apparently it’s the difference between blending and clashing.
After a while I notice Tasha getting some odd looks from people walking in the opposite direction, and so am I. It’s when we’re sitting in the food court on the top floor I figure it out; There’s a train of thought that if you ever see a woman with a black eye or any large bruise, then it ‘has to be’ the boyfriend/husband/partner that’s done it. Not always the case, but it happens. Her facial bruise is still quite obvious, the swelling’s gone but there’s still a large purple mark behind the cut on her cheek.
Eventually the subtle stares start to get to her, and she makes noises about wanting to go home. Sod that, I’m having a nice time, so I tell her to wait here and I leave the girls alone while I pop to a shop I know down one level.
10 minutes later I return, and hand her a small bundle.

“It’s a t-shirt, Pop it on.” She nips off to the ladies, giving Amanda and I a few minutes alone for a little kiss’n’cuddle, and returns a few minutes later. She’s wearing the shirt I got her. It’s bespoke, white, and a little tighter than I’d thought, but on the front bears the message;
‘I got smashed in the face with a hockey ball and all I got was a lot of dirty looks.’ Amanda laughs and Tasha looks happy again, picks up her drink and takes a sip.
“So where to next?” I fancy popping to HMV (it’s still open, thankfully) and the gadget shop, but it’s Amanda who chips in first.
“I know exactly where we’re going next. We’re getting THOSE sorted.” She gestures towards Tasha’s chest and I realise tight and white might not have been such a wise choice. Maybe it’s the air conditioning or the ice in her drink, but suddenly she’s pointing in two directions at one, and as her nipples, while small, are quite dark, they’re very obvious under the material, and all of a sudden the nearby lads aren’t staring at her face any more. She blushes as Amanda continues. “You’re a big girl now, it’s time we got you your first bra.”

It actually becomes a little event as we walk the aisles looking for a suitable shop. Sadly, Ann Summers aren’t happy with a couple of schoolgirls buying sexually-specific underwear (damn them), so they’re turfed out. Luckily the La Senza on the bottom floor is more than happy to accommodate them. I wait outside as Tasha gets measured up. She comes out with a little bag, a smoother (but a little padded) chest, obvious bra straps and a broad grin. She gives a little spin to show off her newly-purchased boulder-holder. (See picture)
“30B! I could have sworn I was smaller! I bought a few things I’ll show you later.” She gives me a wink as Amanda comes out with a less sunny disposition.
“I’ve gone up again. This is ridiculous! It’s costing a fortune in bras.”
“Why? What size are you now?”
“32DD.” Normally men would be happy with this, but for someone as young as her, it’s obviously a curse. We can see she’s a little down, so Tasha offers to buy her several bras to tide her over. (Amanda’s family isn’t as well off as us, but we insist). They go back in and spend a good half an hour picking out many matching sets. I piss off up the other end and pop into the Entertainer; Only place that sells SW Lego, so I get myself the motherfucking Millennium Falcon. Boo-ya bitches!
A swift text and we meet up again. It’s mid-afternoon so the place is getting busier, and I’m not good in large crowds. Tasha knows this so suggests we go home after one more shop. Can’t remember which one we ended up in, but it looked a little swanky, and the girls wander off to the girls’ section while I go upstairs to the gents’. I’m not really a clothes guy but I see a few things I like, so drape them over my arm and head downstairs.

They’re in the queue for the changing rooms, and it looks like they may be a while, looking at the many outfits they have. I buy my things, and tell the girls I’ll dump the many, many bags we already have in the car, just to lighten the load. In, the time it takes to walk to the car and back, they’ve hardly moved, but this appears normal to them. Eventually they get near the front of the queue and beckon me over. The female shop assistant stops us going any further.
“Sorry, if you ladies are going in he has to stay here.” I expected this, but the girls rally quickly.
“But he has to come in, he’s my stylist. We’ve got a charity ball this weekend and he simply has to come in with me.” Tasha’s effort was good, but Amanda wins.
“Anyway, he’s gay, so it’s not like he’ll be perving over us.” The shop assistant looks at me, I give my campest smile, she mumbles ‘what a waste’ and beckons us though to one of five doors.
Things must have changed since I last used a changing room. I’m used to three walls and a curtain, but we have a large room, with a full size mirror and a bench for our stuff. A large curtained cubicle at the back, and there’s even a few chairs and a table with tea and coffee making facilities. No wonder they had to wait so long.
“Blimey. This is a bit swish. I never had…” But I don’t get to finish my sentence as Amanda throws her arms around my neck and kisses me passionately. I hold her body close to mine and run my fingers through her hair.

“Save some for me” says Tasha. I look over and she’s stripping down to her underwear, taking her prospective purchases into the cubicle. I wonder why she closes the curtain, but it must be a girl thing. Amanda stops kissing me and relaxes. I move my hands round to her breasts and give a gentle squeeze.
“Double-D’s eh?”
“It’s a pain in the arse. It was really kind of Tasha to buy some for me. I’ll have to show you some… oh crap, you’ve put them in the car already.”
“I can go get them…”
“Nah, better not, you’re supposed to be gay and it might look dodgy if you come in with a bag full of underwear.” Good point. So I sit in one of the chairs, flick the kettle on and start making us a brew.
The girls take their time trying on various dresses and outfits, and I fulfil my duties as their stylist by giving the seal of approval to some, and being brutally honest when I think something looks dreadful. Tasha’s not really a fashiony type, so a lot of her choices are quite demure, but Amanda helps her out and it’s more hits than misses.
I’m sitting in my chair drinking my tea when I realise the girls have been in the cubicle for quite some time.
“Everything alright in there?”
“Mm-hm.” Odd. Sounds muffled. I walk over and pull back the curtain. The girls are kissing. Not passionately, but gently. Fondling each other’s bare breasts. Knickers are still on though. I guess when Tasha said ‘save some for me’, she wasn’t talking to Amanda. They break apart and blush, still holding each other’s tits. Tasha turns to me
“Sorry. I always wanted to know what they felt like, so I asked, and we got carried away.” I fold my arms and adopt a pissed-off expression. Tasha moves towards me and kisses me. Amanda moves behind her and holds her breasts again.

I’m only wearing a t-shirt so I whip that off so I can get some skin contact. I reach around Tasha and caress Amanda’s tits, running my fingertips over her nipples. I break from Tasha and crane my neck to kiss Amanda, my sister between us starts kissing my chest.
Tasha drops and I feel and hear my jeans zip being undone. My waistband is tugged down, and I feel release as my dick springs up. I shift Amanda to one side to give Tasha more room as she starts to stroke me. Tasha grabs Amanda’s arm and pulls her down to her knees beside her. I guess they’ve decided it’s my girlfriend’s turn, so she opens her mouth and closes her lips around my cock. She can get more in her mouth than Tasha could, and it feels fantastic as she uses a combination of head movement and gentle sucking. I’m absolutely solid, and holding it in as any noise would surely attract the attention of the people outside. Tasha stands up and kisses me again, my hand finds her 30Bs, but she moves my hand down and into her knickers. She grinds her clit against my hand and she comes quite quickly. I’m getting there, but Amanda’s doing such a good job I want it to last.
Tasha pulls my head down and whispers in my ear;
“Fuck her.”

I look into the eyes of my sister, and I see the lust there.
“Didn’t you want me first?”
“I blew you first, now your girlfriend gets first dibs. We’ll still have to wait.” Tasha crouches down and pulls Amanda off my dick and to a standing position, then crouches again as she pulls her knickers off. Amanda looks a little confused, but it seems Tasha’s taken charge and guides her over to the bench, pulling me by the cock. She kisses Amanda, stroking her clit as she makes her sit on the bench, her pussy is the ideal height now so as Tasha guides me towards her, I don’t have to crouch or stand on tiptoe. She places her hands on my shoulders. My dick is at the entrance of her vagina, being held in place by Tasha. I look at Amanda.
“Do you want this?” She looks a little scared, but she bites her lip and nods. Leaning back against the wall and closing her eyes. I look at Tasha, and she kisses me as she pulls me into Amanda, once the head is in I gently push myself, slowly as she’s quite tight. I meet resistance, so give gentle and repeated pushes, entering her a little more each time. I’ve mentioned before I was a virgin up until this point, but that’s out the window now. We hold each other tight as she get used to her vagina being stretched. The tension in her shoulders abates slightly, so I start thrusting my hips gently, sliding my length in and out of her. As her natural lubricant starts to flow, she starts to moan, quietly at first, but when it appears she might get noisy, Tasha moves in and clamps her lips over her mouth. They kiss but it’s more a noise suppression exercise than an act of passion. Tasha starts cupping Amanda’s breast and I reach down behind my sister and reach between her butt cheeks. Because of the height difference I can’t reach her pussy, so have to make do with toying with her little anus. She doesn’t object, even when I pop the end of my finger in past the sphincter.

The sudden urgency builds in my balls, and I start working harder. I feel myself nearly coming, and while I know Amanda’s on the pill, I’d rather not push it, so I start to withdraw, but she’s having none of it.
“No! No! Come inside me. Please!” She crosses her ankles behind my back and clamps me inside her. Fuck it. I push and thrust hard until I pass the point of no return. Amanda comes hard and I can feel her cunt squeezing my dick as I finally bust every available cherry, filling her pussy with my come, Tasha breathing heavily beside me as I realise my finger is now very deep inside her rectum, and she’s had to stand on tiptoe to accommodate me.
We all calm down, breathing heavily. Amanda looks at me with what I can only describe as a look of contented love. Tasha looks tired and looks at me with a look of surprise.
“Well, I wasn’t expecting THAT!” I apologise and very, very slowly extract my finger from her arse. No lubrication so it’s a little frictiony. Amanda pipes up.
“Don’t mean kill the mood, but does anyone have any tissues? I can feel it leaking out and I know it’s going to fuck up the carpet.”
“Move over.” Tasha gently pushes me to one side, and as my dick exits Amanda’s pussy with a little ‘pop, Tasha ducks down inbetween her legs and clamps her mouth on her friend’s vulva. Amanda looks just as shocked as me, and I realise my ‘kid sister’ is sucking my come out of my girlfriend’s pussy. This shit is unbelievable, I know, and I think Amanda has another little orgasm as Tasha sucks the last dregs out, giving Amanda’s clit a little flick with her tongue, pausing only to tun to me and suck the last of the come off and out of my dick. She finally stands up and gives Amanda a little kiss, and it’s generally decided the fun needs to end as we’ve taken up the changing room for far too much time.

It takes 5 minutes to clear the room up and get our shit together. Tasha had the foresight to buy a small bottle of mouthwash from Boots and she passes the bottle round, before we all leave with hint of minty freshness, and impatient looks from the waiting queue.
We do finally leave not long after, and the girls fall asleep in the back on the way home. There was mention of popping into the nearby Ikea, but you don’t just ‘pop’ into Ikea, you need to book a fucking day off work for those places.
Arriving home, mum’s there already, and once I wake Tasha, she and Amanda run in to discuss her newly-found bra-related maturity. As I get close with all the bags I hear mum say “It’s about time.” She looks at me, and the bags. “Lego? Seriously?”
“I thought I deserved a little reward after putting up with these two all day!” This raises a smile, and she actually holds my gaze for longer than usual. Whatever her problem was, she seems to be getting over it.
We all have dinner together, Amanda, Tasha and me playing three-way-footsie under the table. The girls disappear upstairs and reappear periodically to show their new outfits to mum. On one occasion, Amanda’s got her phone to her ear. She hands it to me with a sheepish look. Oh crap.
“It’s mum, she wants to talk to you.” There’s a smile, so I’m assuming she hasn’t told her mother about the changing room acrobatics.
“Um.. hello?”
“Hello, it’s Amanda’s mother here. My daughter tells me she wants to sleep over there tonight.” Not sure why she’s telling me.
“My daughter also tells me that you and her are a bit of an item.” Ah, I get it now.

“Well, yes, sort of. It’s early days, but yes, you could say we are.”
“I appreciate you looking after Amanda the other day at such short notice, but I didn’t know it had led to anything else.”
“Neither did I, really, but I had cause to think about it a few days later and as it turns out, that Friday turned into a date of sorts. We had a nice time, and I enjoy Amanda’s company.”
“That’s very sweet, but can I have your assurance that there’ll be no…” I cut her off.
“I can assure you, there’ll be nothing like that going on. I’ve been told of the rules with regards to her schoolwork, plus I’m very aware of her age, so no, you have absolutely nothing to worry about. I’ll be the perfect gentleman. I promise.” Fingers crossed on both hands.
“Well, that’s very reassuring. Could I speak to your mother?” I pass the phone over, and slightly eavesdrop as my mother says things like ‘Hello?’ ‘yes, she did’ ‘32DD’, ‘30B’, ‘well, she takes after me’ ‘I never bothered until I had children’ ‘I think Tasha treated her to some’. ‘No, it’s no problem, really’ ‘Honestly, I wouldn’t dream of it’ ‘We enjoy having her over, my son tell me she’s good with a hammer’. Amanda comes and stands beside me.
“What did mum want?”
“She wanted my assurance I wouldn’t try to have my wicked way with you.”
“Too fucking late for that.”
Mum hands Amanda back her phone, and she looks straight at me.
“I’m happy you’ve got a girlfriend, and I’m happy you’re both happy. But I don’t think I need to tell you what kind of behaviour I expect from you both when you’re under my roof together.” Amanda stands close to me and holds my hand. It’s that awkward moment when you’re told off by someone else’s parents.
“No, you don’t mum. While Amanda’s here, I’ll treat her the same as if she was Tasha.”
Am I lying?

When we went to bed last night, we were good boys and girls. This morning, I was woken by a gentle tap on the door and my dad coming in with a cup of tea. He hasn’t done that for a while.
“Morning son.”
“Morning dad.”
“Looking at bit crowded in there.” He gives me a wink and leaves. I’m suddenly aware of an arm across my chest. Looking behind me, I see Tasha’s crept in again, and is spooning me from behind. I lay there for a while until I realise the mattress seems more weighted down than usual. I shift in bed and look behind Tasha. Amanda’s in here too, spooning behind my sister, her arm around Tasha’s body, under her vest and holding her boob. They’re both fast asleep, and I wonder if they got up to anything in Tasha’s room last night. I start pitching another tent, so decide to leave them alone.
Dad’s sitting at the breakfast bar and beckons me over.
“Sleep well?”
“Yeah, I think so.”
“Three in a bed?” I nearly choke on my tea.
“Yeah, Tasha must have crept in in the night. She’s done it a lot more since the accident.”
“And your girlfriend??”
“Amanda still feels responsible, so I think she’s getting maternal.” This seems to satisfy his curiosity.
“I hear Amanda’s mum gave you the third degree about her daughter, so I probably don’t need to.” I shake my head.
“Don’t worry dad. I’m keeping myself under control.” Me, yes, the girls, not so much.
“Glad to hear it.” Mum’s out in the back garden with Tommy. It’s a nice morning, so all the toys are out. “Look, you’ve probably noticed your mother acting strangely around you lately.”
“I had noticed, yes. She’s getting better though, especially since…” he nods sagely.
“Yeah, she would. Look, I’m going to tell you something about your mother, and I want you to take it seriously. Don’t jump to conclusions, and think about what I say before responding. Ok?”
I’m apprehensive, but I nod. He takes a deep breath.

“Your mother’s a nymphomaniac.”
Wow.
I don’t laugh, or raise my eyebrows, I just do as dad asks.
“Actually, to be specific, she’s a clinical, targeted nymphomaniac. Which means she’s diagnosed, in therapy, and her condition only applies when she comes into contact with certain people.”
Due to my time looking up random crap on the net, I know that clinical nymphomania isn’t the joyful fuckfest you’d think. And dad pretty much confirms it. There’s a difference between having a high sex drive and wanting to have sex all the time. Imagine wanting sex so badly you can’t function normally. Imagine wanting sex WHILE you’re having sex, because the sex you’re having isn’t enough.
“Ok, I get it, but what about the targeted part?”
“She’s sexually attracted to certain people. Certain personality and physical traits can set her off. This is why she’s always been standoffish with you.” This time I really do spit out my tea.
“With me? You mean she’s attracted… to me?” He shakes his head.
“No, not yet. And she never used even think about it until you hit puberty and started looking like me. I won’t lie, she was terrified of suddenly looking at you and wanting you more than me. It kept her up at night.”
“So that’s why she’s been avoiding eye contact. And disappearing for hours.”
“Pretty much. She has priority access to her therapist, and if she feels an episode coming on, she goes to get talked down.”
“She’s been a lot better lately.”
“Yes, and we have your young lady friend to thank for that. Now you have a girlfriend, it’s put up a barrier between you. Mental conditions like nymphomania are hard to cure but since your mum came to us while you were still young, she saw you as a small child. Puberty changed that, with you becoming a man that ticked all the right boxes. Now you have a young girlfriend, she’s started regarding you as her child again, instead of a desirable object.”

“I never knew you knew so much about things like these.” He shrugs and moves to get another coffee.
“I had to, if I was going to make it last with Catherine (mum’s real name – but not real for the purposes of this update) I had to understand her condition, and learn how to combat anything that might happen along the way.” We sit in silence for a while.
“So can I do anything? If she has a turn?”
“Actually yes, she needs to be reminded you’re her son. I know you’re not actually, but the barrier has to be reinforced.”
“That’s it?”
“That and calling her therapist if it gets bad. I’ll give you her number. Nice woman, very understanding, and she knows the potential problem you might pose.” I get what he means. He gets up and moves to join mum in the garden.
“Anything else? I mean what else can I do to help?” He thinks for a second.
“Don’t tell your sister, or Amanda. And for god’s sake, never call your mother by her name.”
“Barriers?”
“Destroyed. You’d be lucky to escape the room with your arms attached. She put me in hospital once, don’t let her size fool you.” And he joins mum and Tommy in the back garden.
So as of now, I have two underage fuck-around-buddies and an adoptive mother with a collection of sex toys who could very easily rape the shit out of me if I say the wrong thing.
Yay.

The girls come down, still in their PJs, and I notice Tasha’s got one of her new bras on.
“How are you getting on with them?”
“It’ll take some getting used to. I’m having trouble undoing them actually.”
“Oh, I can help you with that, I’m an expert.”
“Since when?” As she’s close I reach around her back and do the two-finger trick. She squeals as I undo her bra and clutches her hand to her breasts.
“You Git!” I tell her to turn round and do it back up for her. Amanda comes over and gives me a quick kiss. I squeeze her bum out of sight.
“Didn’t know you could do that.”
“Mis-spent youth in a mixed school.” They grab breakfast and sit with me at the bar, we exchange flirty glances as they eat their cornflakes. We don’t really have any plans for today, and I’m all shopped and shagged out after yesterday. They go back upstairs to get changed, Tasha being the one to give me a kiss as they leave the kitchen. I’m reading the Sunday paper a few minutes later and I hear laughter from out in the back garden, and see Mum and Tasha out there with Tommy, I’m wondering where Amanda is when I hear the clink of cups. She’s over by the kettle (I didn’t hear her come in) so I creep over, slide my hands around her waist just under her boobs and pull her close, parking my flaccid dick between her bum cheeks.
“Morning sexy.” I start kissing her neck.
I hear more laughter.
I look out of the patio doors to the back garden.
I see Tasha. Dad. Tommy.
And Amanda.

I freeze. So does the woman in my arms. I can hear her holding her breath. I gently back my pelvis off, but carry on holding her.
“Mum. Mum. Mum…” I keep repeating it over and she starts breathing again. “I’m sorry mum, I thought you were…” I move my hands so I’m not holding her so tightly. “It was an accident, you girls all look the same from the back!” I’m trying to make it light-hearted, but I still can’t see her face. I call her mum a few more times and her breathing returns to normal. My hands are still on her waist, and she pats the back of my hand.
“Ok, I’m ok. That wasn’t as bad as it could have been.”
“Yeah, sorry.” I remove my hands and she turns to face me. She looks directly at me, and holds my gaze.
“I take it your dad’s told you…”
“Yes, about 20 minutes ago, so I feel like a proper moron now.” She laughs softly and holds up her cup, blowing across the top before taking a sip. She’s still taking slow, deep breaths.
“I always knew you were a fast mover. It’s not too bad now, my therapists’ got a new method and it’s working wonders, but only as long as I don’t get overly excited, such as when I feel something large pressing against my backside.” Awkward.
“Shit, yes. Sorry again.”
“Actually, there’s something else that’s stopping me from jumping on you right now.” She’s being remarkably calm, and it doesn’t match with what she’s saying. It’s scary.
“What’s that?”
“It’s just that you thought I was your 14-year old girlfriend, and the first thing you did was rub your... (deep breath) penis against me, thinking I was her.”

She has a point. I go scarlet.
“Honestly mum, I was just coming in for a hug, I wasn’t trying anything else. Anyway, I HAVE just woken up you know. You have NO idea what it’s like for us poor men first thing in the morning.” She smiles again, but she looks at me through semi-closed eyes. Hopefully she won’t see through my craftily constructed web of lies.
“Okay, fair enough, but just keep it in your pants. She’s 14 and I don’t any scandals. I’ve got enough going on in my head as it is.”
“Ok, promise.” She gives me a hug (I ensure there’s no more rubbing) and she goes back outside, leaving me alone with a terrified penis and a rapidly decelerating heartbeat.

A couple of hours later, Tasha comes along ‘for the ride’ as I take Amanda home, but on the way we stop off in a layby so we can all say goodbye properly. Tasha keeps lookout (and faps in the back) as I recline my seat and Amanda gives me an awesome blow job. Tasha has trouble doing her bra back up so Amanda shows her an easier way to do it. Tasha complains that she would have been better off not bothering, I counter by telling her we could have used her nipples as coat hooks. She passes round the mouthwash again, extended kissing happens and we finally get my girlfriend home. Her mum is waiting outside the house to make sure there’s no hanky-panky as we say farewell.
On the way back home I turn to Tasha.
“Your school has a strict rule about boyfriends, right, and how they can be a distraction to your schoolwork?”
“Yes?”
“What about girlfriends?” She just smiles.
“They’re old fashioned. They don’t seem to think that’s an issue.”
I envy her.


~~~~~~~~Fin~~~~~~~
7 comments

tyciolReport

2013-10-25 00:31:57
https://tinyurl.com/tashasbrother

anonymous readerReport

2013-10-14 11:06:27
https://jumpshare.com/v/LldHYnJgy5nF3hhXN8aA?b=Yx5JQp8LQO5TrlegPXMg

anonymous readerReport

2013-10-13 13:03:26
link to the original story?

anonymous readerReport

2013-08-20 02:22:21
It's a piece of a much longer story from /b/. The guy posted it over a period of days.

anonymous readerReport

2013-07-27 04:54:34
This was amazingly well written! The beginning was a bit sketchy but all in all one of the best stories I have ever read! Huge props for writing this man!

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