I was much happier after that. I still woke with an erection and went to bed with an erection, but I quickly developed the manual skills for fast relief. I could be done and cleaned up within 5 minutes in the morning and I didn’t have to worry about morning erections at breakfast. My open fly pyjamas mysteriously disappeared in the wash the following week and Mum replaced them with shorts that had no fly.
The roles were reversed at breakfast as I now had little interest in Tabatha’s thighs after a morning wank, but I kept catching Tabatha sneaking glances at my crotch. In fact, her general attitude to me changed after that. She was much more friendly and interested. She asked me things and looked very directly in my eyes when we spoke. There was an intensity in her gaze that I found disconcerting. It was like she was trying to tell me something with her eyes or testing me to see if I could read her thoughts.
In the evenings I went to bed early and kept myself entertained for hours before drifting off to sleep. I would come at least twice each night. Sometimes three times. But I never repeated the 5 in an hour of that first night.
I found that if I got the first one out of the way quickly, I could have more fun with the second one. I had been so frustrated and so permanently aroused for so long that I actually enjoyed sitting on the edge of an orgasm for an hour or two. I didn’t realise until years later that this form of orgasm control is called “edging”. I became very good at it.
When I came quickly, the cum just flowed out of me in pulses. But at the end of two hours of edging, the cum flew across the room in intense squirts. I learned to turn my head at the end so as not to give myself a facial like the first night. I didn’t like the feeling of my own cum splatting into my mouth and my nose and my eyes at high speed.
One time on a Saturday afternoon, when Mum and Tabatha had gone out and I had the house to myself for a few hours, I had an orgasm so intense that it felt like I might have broken something internally. I turned my head to the side and braced for the hail of cum. But it didn’t come. I heard it hit something, but I didn’t feel anything, until the third squirt hit me on the chin. I kept spasming until the twelfth or thirteenth squirt became a dribble. I cleaned up and looked around me to see where the missing cum had gone. It wasn’t on the pillow. I ran my fingers through my hair, but it wasn’t there either. It was a mystery.
Just then there was a commotion at the front door. Mum and Tabatha must be home. I quickly pulled on shorts and a tee shirt. As I heard footsteps coming down the hall towards my room, I picked up my copy of Men’s Health magazine and pretended that I had been sitting in bed reading all this time. Tabatha burst into the room. She did that quite often these days and she didn’t knock any more. I worried that she would catch me wanking one of these days.
“Look what I got!” she twirled around in a pale yellow sundress I’d never seen before. The pleated A-line skirt flew up and out as she twirled and from my reclining position on the bed I caught a glimpse of her bare butt cleaved by a white Brazilian thong before she slowed and the dress settled back down over the tops of her thighs. A few weeks ago, a flash of her arse like that would have driven me insane. (And I was beginning to suspect that she knew that!) But after the nut crunching orgasm I’d just had, I was able to be more objective and I just took a mental screenshot for later. I noticed now that the dress had white polka dots and long spaghetti shoulder straps. It was sexy and cute.
Tabatha seemed a bit deflated by my lack of enthusiasm. “What’s wrong with you?”
“Nothing. New dress?”
“Yeah, do you like it?”
“Yeah, I do. But since when do you value my opinion on your clothes?”
Tabatha was no longer paying attention. She was looking at the wall over my head. She looked at me, then back at the wall, then back at me. I met her quizzical look.
“Either Britney’s got a really bad cold, or you’ve been using her for target practice. Either way, you’re both disgusting.” And with that she turned and walked out of the room.
I jumped up to look at the poster of Britney Spears above my bed. I found the missing squirts. A thick white booger draped down over her lips from her nose. It had hit her forehead and slid down. The poster paper was darkened where the track of fluid had passed over it. It was still sliding slowly south, like a grotesque white slug. Further down a second splash of cum had wet her bare chest and was now sliding down into her cleavage. I couldn’t have aimed better if I tried.
All this sounds better than it looked and I grabbed a tissue to wipe it off. The dark stains looked like they might not come out. My heart sank at the realisation I had probably ruined my favourite poster.
Later I calculated that the Britney head shot had travelled a distance of over two metres. If Britney’s head had not been in the way, it probably would have gone at least 4 metres. Once again I was left a bit in awe of what my body could do. And when I reflected on Tabatha’s reaction, it occurred to me that she had betrayed the faintest hint of being impressed. By this stage, too many embarrassing things had passed between us for me to care what she thought any more. I pretended nothing had happened and sort of forgot about it.
I should point out that, while this story focuses on incidents between Tabatha and me, we both had other love interests during this time.
As I went to an all boys’ school, meeting girls was not that easy. But it helps when you’ve got a sister. Tabatha’s best friend was Lisa Hannan. Lisa had a younger sister, Jo, who was about my age. She came to our house a few times with Lisa, so we knew each other to say “hello”. And sometimes I would see her with her friends after school, at the Fish ‘n’ Chip shop at the top of Glenferrie Road.
I had a crush on Jo. Strangely, she was a lot of things that Tabatha was not. She was friendly and open and seemingly innocent. Tabatha always looked like she was scheming and hiding something. Jo had pale skin, but she tanned to a dark brown in summer, like me. Tabatha didn’t tan at all.
Also like me, Jo had hazel eyes. But where mine were blue, with a brownish green centre, Jo had green eyes with an orange brown centre. They were the most amazing eyes. I got lost in those eyes. Jo was shy and she would look down and look away when I stared into her eyes. I was not the sort of kid who is confident enough to go around making direct eye contact with girls, but with Jo I couldn’t help but stare in open admiration of her beautiful eyes.
I came to appreciate later that Tabatha has a subtle beauty that is more readily recognised by women. There was nothing subtle about Jo. She was gorgeous - pure and simple. Every guy I knew thought so. There was nothing subtle about her tits either. Jo tried her best to hide them, but there was no escaping the fact that she was stacked.
Tabatha could see the way I looked at Jo and she teased me about it. Lisa told Tabatha that Jo thought I was “cute” and they plotted to bring us together. But more on that later.
Tabatha herself was very popular with boys and seemed to have more of them visiting more often than Mum would have liked. In the summer, she and Lisa would entertain two or three boys in our back garden by the pool. Sometimes I would watch them from my bedroom window, unseen behind the net curtain. I particularly liked to watch when Tabatha would untie the back of her bikini top and ask a boy to rub suntan oil on her back. I longed to do that myself. If Tabatha liked a boy, she would ask him to rub oil on the backs of her legs too. Sometimes a boy’s hands would rub more slowly, so that it became like a massage. I always got more excited at that point and I guess the boy did too.
Later that night, in bed by myself, I would re-imagine the scene by the pool. Instead of Lisa sunbaking with Tabatha, I imagined it was Jo. I would be wearing my navy jocks and rubbing suntan oil on both of them. Tabatha would draw Jo’s attention to my erection and release it from my jocks by pulling on the broken elastic waistband and letting it spring to attention like a jack-in-the-box. Jo would squeal with surprise and embarrassment, but ultimately succumb to her curiosity. Tabatha would sell the forbidden fruit like the serpent with the apple. I seemed to get extra pleasure from the fact that there were two girls admiring my cock and that we were outdoors. After at least an hour of teasing and edging, the fantasy would end with me squirting my cum all over my two favourite bodies.
It intrigued me that Tabatha spent so much time sunbaking, because her skin didn’t tan. At the end of summer she was as white as she had been at the end of winter. Lisa had similar skin to her sister and tanned to a dark brown.
When Tabatha and her friends were not monopolising the pool, I would sunbake myself. I had board shorts for swimming, but I had an old pair of Speedos for sunbaking. They were unfashionably skimpy from a few seasons ago and I wouldn’t wear them in public. They were also at least one size too small on me now, after my latest growth spurt. But I liked the idea of having an all over tan, and if I moved the narrow waistband around, the tan lines disappeared.
As the summer progressed, one boy came more often and Lisa and the other boys came less. Marcus was a tall dark guy, of Italian heritage, who was a few years ahead of me at my school. He and his friends had bullied some of my friends when we were all a bit younger and I didn’t like him. But Tabatha liked him a lot. Now he acted all friendly to me when we met because he wanted to get inside Tabatha’s pants.
In the garden, by the pool, with my Mum working in the kitchen and keeping a watchful eye, Marcus never got inside Tabatha's pants. But he got to see and touch everything else. Tabatha had started sunbathing topless, much to Mum’s disgust. And the way Tabatha let Marcus rub suntan oil on her body was tantamount to foreplay. It was quite a show. And I made sure I had a front row seat at my window when Marcus came to visit on a sunny afternoon.
At first I wasn’t confident that they couldn’t see me behind the curtain, because I could see them so well. But I grew bolder and started standing there at the window, naked and masturbating as Marcus slipped his dark oily hands into Tabatha’s pale nooks and crannies. I even got out the baby oil for myself. It would have been hard to explain if Mum had burst in unannounced. But the thrill of being exposed and the risk of being caught got me going even more. Marcus must have gone home with very blue balls because he never seemed to get any relief after all that foreplay. I always shot my load before they’d finished.
Marcus must have tired of the teasing that went nowhere because at the end of February he stopped coming over. I missed the foreplay shows, but I got more time by the pool for sunbaking myself.
One sunny Sunday afternoon, when Mum was out shopping and Tabatha had gone to visit Lisa, I decided to take my sunbathing to the next level. I wore the navy jocks into the garden instead of the Speedos. The navy jocks were even more skimpy than the Speedos. As I lay in the warm sun, with the loose triangle of fabric barely covering my triangle of private parts, I played a game of pumping blood into my erection and making it twitch out from underneath, before modestly tucking it away again. The trees and fences around our garden gave us a lot of privacy and I was confident no one could see me in this part of the garden. As the game progressed I got harder and my erection sprang out more violently, with the head reaching almost to my navel and the jocks slipping down to the base, so that my full length was exposed. It became almost impossible to tuck it away again. There was not enough fabric. When I pushed it down and sideways, my cock stretched beyond the triangular front panel of cotton to the narrowing waistband, which was not as thick as my cock. I had also started to leak precum. My attempt at modesty now just looked obscene.
“Having a bit of a wardrobe malfunction there?” Tabatha’s voice scared the living shit out of me and I jumped a mile. She started laughing. My cock had sprung back out of my jocks and I must have looked ridiculous as I tried to put it back in my pants. It kept springing out.
“Where did you come from? I thought I had a bit of privacy.” Tabatha was standing not 10 feet away from me in her yellow polka dot sundress. She had stopped laughing, but she was still smirking at my predicament. She had taken her sunglasses off and held the end of one arm suggestively to her lips.
“I’ve been knocking on the front door for the last 10 minutes because I forgot my key, and when you didn’t answer I came through the side gate.” I finally got my erection under cover with a combination of jocks and hands. Despite the embarrassment of being caught by Tabatha, my erection showed no sign of softening. “Don’t worry, little brother. I sunbake nude when you and Mum are not around.”
She was making no secret of the fact that she was glancing down at my groin while she spoke. “If you’re going to be coy about it,” she nodded at my crotch, “I suggest you get bigger jocks . . . or bigger hands.” She smiled wickedly at her own wit and my discomfort.
“But if you want my opinion, I think you should just set him free. We’ve all seen him anyway.” She looked around her to confirm that this part of the garden was screened from Alf and Barbara’s. “If it makes you feel better, I’ll join you.” And with that she grabbed the hem of her dress in each hand and lifted it up over her head in one motion.
Underneath she was wearing only a white Brazilian thong, like the one I had seen before. Her soft pale B-cup boobs rose and pulled together as her hands stretched high above her. She had puffy pink areola and soft pink nipples. I’d studied them at a distance when she sun-baked topless with Marcus, but this was the closest I’d seen them. Her boobs were cute rather than womanly.
Considering all the fantasies I’d had in recent months about sunbaking with Tabatha and being naked and aroused in her presence, I was surprisingly nervous. Tabatha, on the other hand, seemed supremely relaxed. She swung her hips confidently as she walked to the sun lounger beside me. She peeled off the thong by bending from the waist and bending one knee coquettishly. Her bare thighs and buttocks met in that marvellous diamond void. Not that I noticed or anything. She put her sunglasses back on before she lay down on her stomach on the sun lounge.
My mouth was hanging open and my heart was pounding as I stared. It was hard to believe after all this time that my sister was lying naked beside me. I could reach out and touch that gorgeous bare arse if I had the courage.
She set her head down on her hands, turning to face in my direction. But before she settled she quickly raised herself up on her elbows again.
“Come on, little brother. Lose the jocks. A deal’s a deal.”
My heart was hammering and my hands were shaking as I stood up. Tabatha moved her sunglasses down her nose and tilted her head to watch me over the top of them. I didn't feel capable of matching her calm, professional strip. But before I had even stood up straight, my erection had sprung out of my pants again and without any elastic to hold them up they fell straight to my feet. I was naked in a heartbeat.
“Nicely done, little brother,” said Tabatha. She raised her eyebrows and lowered her eyes. “Or, should I say, ‘BIG brother’?” Then she pushed her sunglasses back into place and put her head down on her hands to sunbake as if seeing me naked was no big deal.
“While you’re . . . up,” she said as an afterthought, “why don’t you do me a favour and rub some of that suntan oil on my back?”
I stood there with my erection straining. A surge of precum spilled out of me and flowed down my shaft as I contemplated Tabatha’s words and her beautiful naked body below me. With her sunglasses on, it was not clear if she was still looking at me or not.
“Yes, big brother - you can do my legs if you want. And . . . don’t forget my ass.”
How could I forget that arse?
There were so many ways in which my experience of touching Tabatha for the first time that day was less than perfect.
It started well, when I poured the Reef Tanning Oil between her soft shoulder blades and I watched it start to spread, gracefully over her porcelain skin. I was kneeling beside the sun lounge and my erection bobbed and twitched as I leaned over her to spread the oil with my right hand.
But my heart was pounding like it was going to break out of my chest and my hand shook with nerves. The oil was thicker than baby oil and had a slight grittiness to it.
And I was conflicted. I wanted to grope her plump feminine curves and caress her fine shoulders and neck like a lover. But had she given me permission to do that? Or was I just a brother rubbing suntan lotion on his sister?
I proceeded cautiously and tentatively with my shaking hands. Spreading the thick oil ineptly with feigned brotherly indifference. My cock started to wilt from the nervousness and uncertainty. I’d never touched her like this before and I was sure I wasn’t doing it right.
“Mmmm. That’s nice,” she said.
“Ye-ah! I wouldn’t say it if it wasn’t.”
“OK. I’m glad you like it. It’s just I’m so nervous and my hands are shaking.”
“Why are you nervous? There’s no need to be nervous. It’s just me, Andy.”
I moved to sit on the edge of the sun lounge so that I had both hands free to concentrate on her shoulders. There was something soothing about her voice, today, and as she talked I got more confident and my nervousness subsided.
“Your hands are soft,” she continued. “They feel nice on my skin and you’re being gentle. Most boys are rough.”
I poured more oil onto the small of her back and kept rubbing. She seemed to like it slow and gentle, so I let my hands flow over her skin slowly, like the oil. Her waist was so narrow and its softness gave way beneath my hands.
I could see that I’d missed the side of her rib cage and the sun was shining on it. Her skin there was particularly delicate and white. The side of her boob bulged out slightly from underneath her. I dared not rub down that far, but I was engrossed and fascinated by every detail of her body.
“Having fun there, little brother?”
“Yes,” I admitted.
“Me too, but why don’t you put some on my legs and my bum before they burn?”
“OK. Sorry.” I stood up and poured a stream of oil from her left buttock to her ankle and rubbed it in quickly. Then I moved to the other side and did her right leg. It was a shame not to be doing it more affectionately on this first occasion. Her buttocks and thighs were a marvellous combination of muscle and fat that was firm, but squidgy at the same time. They rolled around on her petite frame as I rubbed her firmly. Her skin glistened with oil and I could see the palest of blue veins beneath, as if her skin was translucent.
She had her thighs close together and there was no diamond opening between her legs in this position. But my cock regained it rigidity as I looked at where it should be. There was a noticeable temperature difference between the cool outside of her thighs and the inside where they pressed together. My hands were drawn to the heat. I didn’t slip my hand between her thighs, like I did in that dream, but her knees where slightly apart and I let my hand slide between them instead. My cock twitched harder at the thought that I had my hand between my sister's legs.
I moved to the bottom of the sunlounge and put some more oil on my hands. Tabatha had nice plump calves that tapered to fine ankles. The upturned soles of her lovely feet were soft to the touch. I finished rubbing oil on all her exposed skin and then stood up. My erection throbbed as I admired her figure.
“Mmmmm, thank you Andy.” Tabatha sounded contented as well as grateful. Like I had nearly put her to sleep. I was wide awake and my heart was still pumping hard, but now more from excitement than nerves. Touching my sister’s skin so thoroughly and so intimately for the first time was an experience I will never forget. I sat back down on my own sun lounge.
“I suppose you want me to do you now,” said Tabatha lazily, without lifting her head. Her face was still turned towards me, but her dark glasses hid her eyes and I didn’t know whether they were open or closed. “But you’ve left me feeling so . . . mellow, that I can’t be bothered moving. Your hands are almost hypnotic, Andy. You’ve got a real talent.”
“Mellow” was not really the effect I was aiming for. “Dripping wet” would have been better. My erection strained and a thread of precum dripped down into my navel. I didn’t feel very “mellow” at all. But given how awkwardly I started, I was pleased with her compliments.
“Would you like me to give you a virtual blow job?”
“Yes!” I blurted out without really knowing what I was agreeing to. It sounded good.
“Do you know what that is?”
“Not really. Is it like phone sex?”
“Yeah!” she sounded surprised that I guessed correctly. “It’s where I tell you how I would suck your cock, but I don’t actually suck your cock.” She put a harsh emphasis on the words “suck” and “cock”. Like they were distasteful things in her mouth and she was spitting them out as she talked. “Seeing as how you’re my little brother. And it wouldn’t be right for a good Catholic girl, like me, to put a cock . . . in my mouth. And suck . . .”
My heart beat picked up speed at her dirty talk and I realised that she had already eased into the tease. I reclined fully against the chair and rested my head to the side so I could watch those dirty words forming on her lips. She moved her head slightly to lift her cheek off her hand so that she could talk without her jaw moving against her hand.
“I know you want me . . . to suck . . . your cock. I can see that your big . . . thick . . . hard . . . cock . . . just wants to be sucked.”
I was hanging off her every word. She had me panting and in her spell.
“I could come over there, and kneel between your open legs. Get comfortable between your strong legs. And crouch down, to pick up your big . . . cock. In my soft, hands. Wrap my little hand around your shaft . . . “
I instinctively reached down to touch myself. I was getting quite worked up.
But she sang three rising notes of admonishment, “Ah! Ah! Ah! No hands, Andy. At least, not yet. I’m sucking you, remember? We don’t want your hands to get in the way. Now, where was I? Oh yes, I had my fist wrapped around the base of your cock, gripping it tightly at the base, where it’s thickest, where it seems to grow out of your body like a branch. It feels so big in my little hand. And I want to bend it . . . to my mouth, so I can put that big purple head in my mouth. My fist is squeezing you . . . almost choking that poor head. He’s going all blue in the face. And look! There’s a tear forming in his eye . . .”
There really was a tear of precum forming in the eye of my cock as I listened to her sexy voice.
“Now, if I wasn’t such a good little girl, I might be tempted to stick my tongue out. My long, wet tongue . . .”
As I watched her she stuck her tongue out slowly and seductively. Tabatha had a long tongue.
“. . . and I might lick . . . that tear away. Taste your salty fluid . . . yum. I’ve tasted other boys. They taste nice. But I’ve never tasted you, Andy. What do you taste like?”
Boom! Boom! Boom! My heart was in danger of drowning out her voice as I imagined the tip of her tongue licking the tip of my cock.
She sounded like she was getting a bit carried away with the fantasy herself. I looked down at my cock and the precum oozed out of me in a long drooping drop. It flowed in slow motion, like honey.
“Mmmmm. After I lick your precum and taste you, I might lick you some more. I might let my tongue trace along that throbbing vein in your cock . . . or I might lick the length of your shaft . . . from your balls . . . all the way along that tube, that runs all the way up your shaft . . . when you’re really hard . . . rock hard. It’s like the backbone of your cock.”
I knew what she was talking about. I didn’t know what it was called. But I could feel mine bulging out now as I imagined her tongue licking it.
“I’d lick all the way up the spine of your cock . . . slowly . . . feeling the ridges and the bumps with my tongue . . . until I got to that stretched bit of skin . . . that always looks like it’s going to break . . . I’m going to lick that bit of skin . . . lick it ever so gently, because it’s so sensitive . . . and my tongue will use it as a bridge, from your shaft . . . to the head of your cock.”
My cock throbbed helplessly. I desperately wanted to touch it. Tabatha was teasing me mercilessly and turning me on, but I wanted to come.
“Oh, Andy!” she said suddenly as if breaking from character. She sounded anguished. “I’m not a good girl. I can’t help it. And this is so wrong. We shouldn’t be doing this. You’re my brother.”
My heart sank. She was right. But I didn’t want her to stop. Not now.
“And you’re naked. And erect. So, so erect.”
Despite the anguish, there was still the same slow, halting cadence of the tease. She spat out the word “erect” in the same way she said “suck” and “cock”.
Fuck! She’s just playing with me!
“I couldn’t possibly get all of your big . . . long . . . shaft . . . in my little mouth. Even if I wanted to. It wouldn’t fit. You’re so big. So hard. And that big bulging head of yours wouldn’t go down my throat. You would choke me, for sure. Wouldn’t you? Even with your precum lubricating my throat . . . I’d be gagging on your cock. With your head throbbing in my throat. My eyes would be watering. And my mascara would be running."
Tabatha removed her sunglasses. She had that intense gaze. Her eyes seemed darker. Her face seemed to have clouded over. Even though it was still sunny.
She pushed herself up off the sunlounge and turned around. She sat on the edge of it, facing me. Her boobs rolled and pulled as she moved and I watched them. She put her elbows on her knees and leaned forward, so that she was facing me and close to me.
“I can’t be satisfied with just a lick. Even though you’re my brother . . . and it’s wrong . . . for me to suck . . . your cock . . . I’m so hungry. I want to put it in my mouth. I want you to fill my warm . . . wet . . . mouth . . . with your big . . . fat . . . cock.
My eyes darted between the hypnotic gaze of Tabatha’s lustful eyes and the equally fascinating movements of her mouth as it enunciated my dirtiest desires. And during the pauses between words, her mouth fell open, like the dirty hole for my cock that she promised.
“I want to feel your shaft pressing against my tongue.” She opened her mouth and showed me her tongue.
“I want to feel your head at the back of my throat. I want to choke. Almost choke, on your cock. I want to feel your cock throb in my mouth. That desperate throbbing that tells me you’re near the end. Near the limit of your endurance. You want to come in my mouth. . ..” Her mouth hung open, all pink and wet inside her full lips.
“. . . I want to taste you. I want to taste your cum. Come for me. Come for me Andy. Let your cum flow into my mouth. Fill my mouth with the taste of you. The taste of your cum . . . before I swallow . . . "
The cum gushed out of me like a fountain. It was like when you shake champagne before opening it. Fountains of the good stuff went everywhere. And there was a lot of it.
“Holy shit Andy!”
My body kept spasming and my cock kept squirting. Five, six . . .
“Oh my God, you’re still coming!”
Eight, nine . . .
“I’ve never seen anyone come like this before!”
Ten was a dribble and eleven was a last desperate spurt.
“That’s a lot of cum, big brother!”
“Thanks. Thanks Tabatha. That was so good.”
“I’d offer to lick it up for you, but the taste of cum makes me gag.”
“But what about all those things you said?”
“Yeah, well. I just tell boys what they want to hear. That’s part of the beauty of the virtual blowjob. I can tell you about things I could do, without actually doing them. I mean, I could take your cock down my throat, and choke on it, but I don’t think I’d actually enjoy it.”
Tabatha was putting her dress back on. I could feel the pool of cum on my stomach starting to run. I quickly grabbed my blue jocks and used them as a cloth to wipe up the mess. That was a neat solution for the cum, but now I had nothing to wear.
“Can you pass me my Spee . . .”
“Shhhh! What was that? Did you hear that? I think I just heard Mum’s car pull into the driveway.”