Age of Puberty (Girl's POV)

[Buangkok15]

Having potatochip and coke now

[JEMMA]

"Mmmmm. It's been so long," said Hannah. Her hand was sliding gently up and down my prick. She wasn't "jerking it off". Rather she was massaging it, alternating the strength of her grip as her hand moved. It felt wonderful and I didn't want it to stop. "I didn't realize how much I missed this."



I watched as my foreskin stretched, became paper thin, and then bunched under the crown, only to see it do things in reverse order to cover the knob again.



"Desmond was circumcised," she said, apparently making conversation.

"I'm sorry," I said, thinking about Desmond, and the fact that this had brought his loss back into our lives again.

"You have nothing to be sorry about," said Hannah. "I miss him every single day, but I know if it had been me instead of him, I'd have wanted him to find another woman to be happy with."

"And yet you haven't found another man to be happy with," I panted.



"That's complicated," she said. "I'd characterize it more as never having been motivated to look all that hard."

"Well you can do this anytime you're feeling nostalgic," I joked.

"Thank you. I'll keep that in mind," she said. "I'd like to go on doing this for a while, but Heidi will be back and we need this baby soft. How should I get you there?"



Now there was a loaded question. It was a question had had multiple answers, dozens, in fact. She could take off her shirt. I was sure that would do it because I already knew she was braless. I knew this because her nipples were threatening to tear holes in the shirt. She could hop on me and dry-fuck me. That would do it just as fast. All she'd have to do was get close and breathe on it and I'd probably erupt.



"Just speed up a little," I panted. I felt like I'd already pushed things with both women, even though I'd been solicited to do so, somehow.

The door opened and Heidi breezed back in.

"Five minutes is up," she said, and then stopped, frozen at the tableau in front of her. I was lying back, completely out of position, with my legs spread. My right knee was still bent, but I didn't think that counted towards me claiming to have tried to stay the way she'd posed me. Meanwhile her mother was sitting primly on the edge of the bed, leaning slightly, holding herself up with one arm, while the other was engaged in flogging my log.



I looked at Heidi's shocked face and then my eyes slid to her breasts, and further down to her garden of delights. I think it was that cleft of Venus that unleashed my swimmers, who leapt joyfully into the air only to be dismayed that they hadn't leapt into anything even close to a warm pussy. In retribution, they landed on my chest, and Hannah's wrist. Her head turned to look at her daughter, but she didn't stop stroking, thankfully.



"You should have knocked," she scolded, as her fingers expertly milked my cock.

"It's my room," complained Heidi, taking a step closer to us.

"Yes, but I didn't want you to see this."

"Why not? Don't I need to see this?"

"Of course not," snapped her mother.

"Won't I have to do this some day?" asked Heidi, who knew she had her mother on the ropes.

Hannah didn't answer her, but I saw her blush even harder.

"It looks different than you described it," said Heidi.

What the fuck did that mean?

"We can talk about that later," said Hannah. "We need a wash cloth. Dampen it a little, but don't leave it wet."

"Okay," said Heidi, who turned and left.

"Sorry," said Hannah.

"I don't know what to say," I panted.

"I think our little friend here said it all when my naked daughter came into the room."



"No!" I groaned. "I wasn't thinking about her."

"Of course you were, Sam."

"I didn't mean to think about her," I whined.

"We'll talk about that later, too. For now it's soft and she can finish her damned painting."

She stood and I felt like things were falling apart. I didn't want them to fall apart.

"Thank you," I said, softly. I have no idea what twisted part of my brain thought that was a great idea, but, as things turned out, it might have been the right thing to say.



"No, thank you," said Hannah.

She had just finished leaning down to bestow a warm but quick little kiss on my lips when Heidi got back with the wash cloth.

[Conmebol]

Great share TS, more please!!

[JEMMA]

"I really could help with that," said Heidi, as Hannah wiped the semen off my chest, abdomen , and hips. She'd cleaned her wrist and hand first.

"Sperm is the last thing that needs to be near you while you're naked, Heidi," said her mother, sternly. "Don't push it. You get to see him naked. Even though you weren't supposed to see it, you observed how a man reaches completion. That should be enough for one day, don't you think?"



"I suppose so," said Heidi. "Get back into position, Sam. We have work to do."

I did and, after coming over to move this or that, she stepped back to look at me.

"That's as close as we're going to get it," she said.

"All right, then," said Hannah. "Now that you're back to work I have something to do downstairs."

"You aren't staying?" I asked.

"I can't babysit the two of you all day. And I trust both of you. I really need to get some things done. I'll be back later, okay?"

"I guess so," I said.

She went to the door and, just before closing it, leaned back in.

"Behave yourselves," she said.

"I thought you trusted us," Heidi said.

"I do," she said. "But I know how I feel right now, so I thought a little reminder couldn't hurt."

With that she left the room and closed the door. I had a lot to think about. One thing was that last little comment about how she was feeling. What did that mean? I knew she'd thought back to Desmond and the things they'd done as lovers. Then I had a fleeting thought about mothers who leave young daughters alone naked with much older, also naked men. Not your usual mother. Not by a long shot. But this wasn't a usual relationship, that I had with these women, and Heidi's boundless enthusiasm wiped away most thoughts of anything other than that she was doing what she'd said she wanted to do.



Then Heidi was standing right in front of me.

"Don't move," she said, reaching to gingerly grip the tip of my penis with her thumb and forefinger. She moved it from where it had been lying in a kind of lateral position, and made it droop downwards more. Oddly, I could see the logic in that. Before, it had looked like it was defying gravity. Now it looked tired and innocent. Of course it was tired, if not innocent, but I could detect nothing other than an artist's desire to get it into the right position. Maybe it was an excuse to touch it, but it was a good excuse, so I didn't say anything.



Time passed. Heidi was basically hidden behind the easel and my prick behaved itself. My mind wandered. Actually I got a little sleepy. Then suddenly Heidi was standing beside me again.

"Can I ask you a question?"

I thought this was an odd time to do something like that, but maybe she needed a little break.

"Sure," I said.

"Have you been doing the deed with my mother all these years?"

"What?" I gasped. "Of course not! We've never had sex even once!"

"Had sex?" Heidi looked shocked. "That's not what I meant."

"Well, then, what did you mean?"

"You know, making out," said Heidi.

"Making out?"



"Yes! Doing ... the ... deed?" she said, drawing it out.

"When I was growing up, doing the deed meant having sex," I said.

"Oh. Well, that's not what it means now."

"It doesn't matter. We haven't been making out."

"It sure looked like she knew what she was doing," said Heidi.

"She's done it before," I said, helpless to come up with anything sharper. "With your dad, I mean."

"Oh."

"Okay?" I said. "We all square, here?"

"I guess so," said Heidi. "It's getting hard again," she commented, calmly.

I looked down. She was right. I guess that wasn't surprising. She was naked and near me, and we'd been talking about 'doing the deed', whatever that meant these days.



"I'm almost finished, but it still needs to be soft," said Heidi.

"Great," I sighed.

"I could go get Mom again, but can I try it instead?"

"What? No!"

"Why not?"

"Heidi, you're sixteen. I'm more than twice that age. Not to mention it's illegal."

"Well, nobody would find out, so the against-the-law thing isn't really relevant," she said.

"It would be if your mother caught you doing it," I said.

"Okay, I'll go ask her if it's okay."

"No!" I gasped. "You can't do that!"

"Why not?"

"Are you insane? Your mother is not going to tell you it's fine and dandy for you to jerk me off, Heidi."



"Maybe she would," said my "niece".

"I don't think so." I noticed that my cock disagreed, because it had gotten mondo stiff again.

"Look. It's no big deal. Let me just get it soft again."

"I'll do it," I gasped.

"Okay. I'd like to see it from start to finish," said Heidi.



I know I should have made her leave, but things were spinning out of control again, so I just reached for my prod and started whaling away on it. Heidi stepped closer and leaned down to watch, interestedly.

"That looks kind of violent," she commented.

"It's not as violent as it looks," I panted, as if that made any sense.

"It makes me feel funny, watching," she said.

"No big surprise," I panted.

"Right here," she said, reaching to press two fingers to her mound just above her split.



"I'm pretty sure that's normal," I gasped. There was no way I could avoid thinking about the tunnel just below her fingers, or that my prick would love to try it on for size.

I groaned and lay back as soothing semen rushed through my prick.

"Fuck!" she whispered, which shocked me because I'd never heard her use that word before.

What made it even worse was that her fingers slipped lower and obviously pressed against her clit, even though I couldn't see it.




"Finish the painting!" I gasped, rolling back up and trying to get back into position. I didn't even worry about my spooge, which had splattered all over me again.

"Okay," she said.

But she got the wash cloth and cleaned me up with it first.

Heidi moved the easel so that light from the window fell on it more directly. This meant she stood sideways to me. Her nipples were straining away from her teenaged titties and, every so often, as she took a step this way or that, I was able to see her pudendal slit. It looked puffier than it had before, and I imagined her outer labia, which was really all I could see at that point, were also darker. I'm pretty sure the only reason I didn't get hard again was because I'd cum twice within the last hour and a half.

Another half hour went by before she finally stepped back and looked critically at the canvas.

"I guess that will have to do," she sighed. "I still don't think I got your penis right, but I learned a lot, doing this."

"I'm so happy for you," I said, sitting up. I admit there was a little sarcasm in my voice. It seemed like the whole world had changed that day. Starting with Heidi being so casual about getting naked in front of me. Later I would suspect she planned that all along, but I didn't think about it then. Then there were Hannah's words and actions, which seemed to have come from a completely different woman. That was followed up by Heidi wanting to emulate her mother's actions and the fact that she almost masturbated after watching me do that.

It was just a strange, new world, and I hadn't been able to process it yet.

It would only get stranger after we both got dressed and went downstairs for supper.

END

Just enough for your own imagination....

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[WuTea]

Bring out beer and popcorn

[Slovakian]

Very nice share bro, do update soon

[JEMMA]

New Story.....

Remember Jasmine and her brother ' Sam '?

The following story is from Sam's POV.........enjoy...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Ever thought of when you live in a house where the bathroom has to be shared, modesty suffers. Not that anybody ran around naked or anything, and what happened was really an accident. Really!!

But when you have to go you have to go, even if your sister happens to be taking a shower. I snuck in and out, but her image behind the frosted shower door stayed in my head. I didn't want it there, honest!! Yet it wouldn't go away. I thought it might help if I did it again (jerk-off). She couldn't see me, after all, so what was the harm? "

'Except if it turned out that she COULD see me.'.....

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
At least not until I was sixteen.

I have since learned a word for what happened to my sister and me. That word is 'serendipity' but I had never heard of it back then. I don't know if Jasmine had ever heard of it then or not. And that's a good example of how much things have changed for me. Back then, if I'd learned a new word, it would never have even occurred to me to ask her if she knew what it meant.

Now I would. Now we share everything with each other.

Even things we aren't supposed to share.

I think you know what I mean already. I chose a place to tell our story that specializes in, shall we say, stories about things sexual. It was the accident - the serendipity - of finding that site that emboldened me enough to actually tell our story at all. This is not to say nobody else in the world knows about us. That's not true, as you'll find out. And really, as Jasmine reminded me pretty regularly while I wrote this, it isn't anybody else's business that we are closer as siblings than most people in the world would approve of.

But that's the point, actually. The point is that in a world where there seems to be so little love, what there is should be celebrated instead of reviled. Oh, I get it that incestuous pairings in the past have created terrible and sad situations in terms of birth defects. The record is perfectly clear in a murky kind of way about that. What I mean by "murky" is there are no scholarly papers out there on why these defects happen in some cases of incest and don't in others. There are theories galore, but no scientific studies to back them up. To me, that is like saying "There's this incredible, mystifying behavior that can both create or destroy life but why that happens is something we're not going to talk about."

Now maybe you think I'm getting worked up about something that really makes very little difference in the grand scheme of things. After all, incest is an aberration in human life, right? Very few people are involved in that behavior, right? At least that we know about. We don't need to talk about that perversion, right? It isn't common. Incest only touches a fraction of a fraction of a given population.

Right?

Well ... let's not even take up the discussion about Adam and Eve, or Noah and his minescule family, who repopulated the Earth after the flood. We'll pretend that we're not all the product of incest. At least if you ascribe to any number of religions that all pose an original pair that populated the Earth. But maybe you don't. Maybe you think all manner of different humans evolved all at the same time, from different organisms. If that's the way you think, we can go with the roughly 11,000 humans who survived the ice age (scattered hither and yon in tiny groups) and then repopulated the Earth. They had no choice but to inbreed to survive.

I know I said I wasn't a philosopher, and a lot of that up above looks and sounds like philosophical ramblings, but what can I say? Stuff happened and I couldn't help but think about it and wonder why it happened. I know how it happened ... sort of ... at least now in retrospect, but I sure had no idea what was going on while it was happening.

What all this rambling is supposed to be getting to is that maybe it happened to you, too. I have a sneaking suspicion that what happened between Jasmine and me has happened to a lot more people than anybody would admit. I use the words "would admit" intentionally, because of another sexual behavior that seems to happen a lot, but which very few people admit they engage in. Can you guess what it is?

Yup. Masturbation.

Think back on that. If you masturbate (and everybody says everybody does) then how many people have you admitted that to? I'm not talking about how many people know you do it, or believe you do it. I'm talking about you formally announcing, "You know what? I masturbate frequently. Do you?"

Everybody allegedly does it, but nobody admits it to anyone but maybe one or two very close friends.

Enough rambling. I'll just tell you what happened. Maybe you'll be able to explain it to me.

I'll start off by admitting to the whole world that I masturbate, and that I masturbated frequently before all this happened. I started when I was roughly twelve and I learned to do it completely by accident. I was in the shower and I was washing my penis, which was either already hard, or got that way while I was washing it. I don't remember. That wasn't a new thing, having an erection, I mean. It had been getting hard for a long time. But this was the first time I washed it with the now familiar stroking grip that every guy knows all about.

Or so I hear.

Anyway, it felt good so I just kept doing it. Then it felt great and I wouldn't have stopped even if somebody pounded on the door and told me to hurry up. Nobody did, though, and suddenly there was this pain in my penis that was scary as hell, but still felt fantastic, and I spurted. Just like that. I knew NUTS about sex back then. I knew all the words associated with it, particularly the dirty words one never uttered in the hearing of an adult, but that's kind of like all those kids in the spelling bee who can spell anything, but have no idea what it really means. After all, they always ask for the definition ... right?

By the time I was sixteen I was an expert at masturbation. I had my stash of pictures, most of them torn from girly mags I found in the trash. I found the first one by accident, in a dumpster. I was a confirmed dumpster diver after that. People throw away the coolest stuff, as it turns out. But never mind that. I was going to tell you how 'it' started, between my sister and me.



It started when I had to pee really bad and it was either go outside in the back yard, and hope that our neighbour wasn't looking out her window, or go in the bathroom, where my sister, Jasmine, was taking a shower. Maybe your neighbour doesn't stare out the window at your house, but this neighbour seemed to. She was always "just mentioning" things to my parents about stuff I did in the back yard. Like when I shot a bird with my BB gun, or when my friend and I were throwing rocks at each other (we weren't actually trying to score a hit), or when I accidentally ran the mower into my mom's flower garden. There were a bunch of times she saw things and "bumped into" one of my parents and "just mentioned" what she'd seen, and I knew she'd have a conniption fit if I took a leak in the back yard. It was almost bedtime and it stayed light outside pretty late. Plus my dad wired in one of those motion sensor floodlights on the back wall of the house and didn't bother to put a switch on the thing. It would come on if I went out there and that was sure to draw my neighbor's attention.

So I opened the door to the bathroom and went in all ninja-like. Dad had renovated the shower and the new one had a frosted door so I was hoping Jasmine wouldn't be able to see me. I had it all planned out. I was going to sit down on the toilet so things wouldn't splash and make noise. When I was finished I'd put the lid down so she wouldn't see the tint in the water. I wasn't going to flush, of course, since that would be a dead giveaway. Besides, we use way too much water just to flush and it's not like my pee was going to sit there all day. Somebody else would use it.

Now all this was unplanned, which is why it was a complete accident that, as I sat there feeling huge relief, I was facing the shower stall. I could see Jasmine's form through that frosted glass. Just her overall form, a kind of flesh-colored blob that was vaguely humanoid in shape. But I knew what was making that shape, so it wasn't hard to imagine I could sort of, kind of, almost see her breasts when she raised her arms to do something on top of her head.



And as my bladder got empty, my dick got hard.

Now I have to tell you this was a complete surprise. Jasmine was my younger, bratty sister. True, she was only a year younger, and true she got straight A's in school, whereas C was my favorite letter. And there was nothing exactly wrong with her, other than the fact she was a pest and always thought she should be able to do whatever I got to do. But I'd never even thought about getting a boner because of her.

Sure I'd seen her running around in her bra and panties, or maybe the short robe she wore sometimes that showed her legs almost up to her butt, but she was ... Jasmine. She was my sister. And she wasn't a raving beauty or anything. She wore glasses. She had contacts, but her allergies made them itch a lot so she only wore them about half the time. She had boobs, but they weren't huge or anything. She had a "boyfriend" every so often, but she was too hard-headed and independent to let a boy tell her what to do so those relationships always kind of faded to black sooner or later. Mostly sooner.

My point is I'd never thought of Jasmine as a sexual being before. But seeing her vague, naked form behind that frosted glass, it was impossible not to imagine what she might look like if I opened that door.

Suffice to say I was confused that I got a boner while looking at her amorphous form. And a little weirded out, to be honest.

I didn't just sit there and think about all this, by the way. I did what needed to be done and, pulling my pants back up as I stood, to get my boner covered, I snuck out as ninja-like as I had snuck in.

Things stayed confusing when I got back to my bedroom. When I got undressed that boner was still there, and it was throbbing. Always before I'd have happily jerked off and then read until I got sleepy. But this time I couldn't get Jasmine's cloudy form out of my mind. I needed to jerk off, to get some relief, but I knew if I did, I'd keep thinking about my sister and that would be just too weird.

I tried to read, but that damn boner wouldn't deflate.

I got out my pictures and locked the door. My mother was a fan of breezing in to give good night kisses on foreheads and she didn't know I abused myself. Nobody did. How could they? I'd never admitted it to anybody.

Anyway, Miss September (Centerfold model) saved the day because she was looking me right in the eye with that "You can have me if you want me" look that could get me to spurt within sixty seconds if I really wanted to hurry things along. And my eyes flitted from her eyes to her tits to her puffy pussy lips and I came and then I was able to read until I got sleepy.



Miss SEPTEMBER, however, could not distract me the next morning when I went down to breakfast and Jasmine was sitting there, reading the comics in the morning paper. She was dressed like normal, in a tank top and shorts. She was barefoot and her hair was pulled back in a ponytail. And damned if she didn't look ... I don't know ... interesting?

She looked up at me and her eyebrows formed a mild frown.

"What?" she asked.

"Nothing," I said.

"You're staring at me," she said.

"Stop staring at your sister," my mother said, automatically. She was fussing with something in the skillet on the stove.

"I wasn't staring at her!" I complained.

"Yes ... you were," said Jasmine.

But the strangest thing was that she had this little smile on her face as she said it.

"I'll stop," I said, knowing this was the only way to get both of them off my case.

I got a bowl and a box of cereal from the cupboard, not wanting to wait for the more involved process of bacon and eggs.

"I'm cooking, here," complained my mother.

"I love you," I said. Those are the magic words, especially when it comes to moms. But I'm late.

"How can you be late to shoot hoops?" asked Jasmine. "It's just shooting hoops."

I wanted to stick my tongue out at her, but I was sixteen and you can't get away with that much after you're ten, so I just inhaled my cereal (as my mother would have put it) and hurried out the back door.

I had a whole day planned of not thinking about my naked sister behind a shower door, and it would have come off that way too, had it not been Desmond I had decided to spend the day with. He had a thing for my sister. He'd had it since seventh grade, but he was too chicken to ask her out. He was too chicken to even talk to her, for that matter. But he'd talk to me about her. He was fond of saying, "She's so hot. It must drive you crazy, living with her." He was of the opinion that, since he thought she was a babe, all other males must think she was a babe, too, including her brother.

For years I'd happily pointed out why no man on the planet should be interested in Jasmine, but all that bounced off him like water off a duck, so I'd given up a year or so past.

And of course, it was on this particular day that, as we played H.O.R.S.E, Desmond asked me if I'd ever seen Jasmine naked.

There was a conversation about that, but you don't want to hear about that. All you need to know is that, by the time I got home, all I could think about was whether Jasmine would take another shower that night.

Of course I knew she would. Jasmine took a shower every night. If she got sweaty she took one during the day, too. Jasmine and sweat did not get along. I, on the other hand, might go two or three days between showers. I didn't have a girlfriend, but I didn't associate those two facts as having anything to do with each other.

So, of course, she did take a shower.

And, of course I had to decide what to do.

I did not ninja in to get a peek, if that's what you're thinking. But I knew she was in there, and I knew she was naked, and I knew what it would look like if I didgo in there for a peek.

And that's all it took to give me another boner.

Even Miss September couldn't do the trick that night. I went through the whole calendar, or at least the months I had, and none of them could keep me from imagining what my sister looked like behind that stupid door.

And that was the first night I just gave up and thought about Jasmine, rubbing her hands all over her slippery body ... across her breasts ... between her legs ... as she got all squeaky clean.



It was the first night that I suddenly wondered if she did, in the shower, the same thing I did, in the shower. Namely ... masturbate.

So it was the first night that I jerked off while thinking about my sister... ....

[implant]

Really enjoyed coming to this thread. Please post more.

[JEMMA]

It was five days before I just couldn't take it anymore. You do stupid things when you're confused, like making sure you don't go to the bathroom so you'll have a "legitimate" excuse to ninja in and use the toilet while your sister is taking a shower. You're not planning on getting caught, but you make sure you have a valid excuse, just in case. And I changed into the cotton running shorts I sleep in every night, before I spied on my sister. I reasoned that I could pull them up faster than my regular pants. I knew I was going to have a boner. At least I was smart enough not to even think about beating off while I sat there. I figured the shorts would come up and cover said boner quickly and efficiently as I ninjaed back out of the bathroom.

I know this sounds stupid, particularly because I already mentioned that all you could see was the vague outline of a naked person behind the glass. I think maybe it was like some kind of drug. I tried it once, by accident, and it hooked me right away. So every so often I needed a fix, to keep me going.

That really does sound stupid, doesn't it? But it's all I got.

So I did it. I waited until she went in, and then stood by the door until the water had run long enough that I knew she'd be inside the shower. The door creaked as I opened it. I hadn't noticed that the last time. I made a mental note to oil the hinges.



See how bad things were already?! I'd already turned into a pervert!

I tiptoed over to the toilet and shoved my shorts down. I already had a hardon and I had to bend it to get it into the space between my thighs and the toilet seat.

Then I couldn't go. If you're a guy, you know how that works. Or doesn't work. If you have a great boner, you can't piss through it. I don't know why. It's just the way things are.

So there I was, my bladder screaming, and me unable to get a stream going. And all the while I'm staring at the shower door, where Jasmine is soaping herself up.



Now, if you're a guy, then you know the only way to coax piss out of a boner is to stroke it a little bit. For you ladies who haven't fled screaming already, I'll educate you. I'm not talking about a death grip, or choking the chicken, here. What you do is take your thumb and two fingertips and you just tease the shaft a little, kind of stroking it like you might pet a cat or something. It's sort of like you're milking your cock, except it's nothing like milking a cow. Anyway, that's what works. Somehow it relaxes things, at least for me, and within a minute I got things moving.

Of course I was in a mild panic while all this was going on, so I missed not hitting the water, at least at first. I looked down as I bent my cock to one side and the noise stopped. Then I looked back up at the shower door, to see if I was busted. I wasn't, or at least she didn't say anything, but she was standing still. It looked like her hand was in front of her, maybe covering her pussy? But she wasn't saying anything and her other hand was on the wall of the shower, and not covering her breasts. So then, suddenly, that question about whether she did in the shower what I did in the shower popped back in my head.

I squinted, trying to see better, and it looked like her hand was moving. Was it moving between her legs?



I suddenly realized I'd been in there for a lot longer than planned. In fact, I wasn't sure just how long I'd been in there. It could have been as much as three or four minutes, and there isn't a guy in the world who needs three or four minutes to piss. Maybe to piss and then wash up and dry his hands and comb his hair and look at how handsome he is in the mirror, but not just to take a leak.

Which is why I stood up somewhat precipitously, meaning I didn't have a boner management plan in place, which meant my rampant rod waved in the air in front of me like Harry Potter's wand doing an Alohomora unlocking spell. Then I had to bend over to pull up my shorts, and I guess all that getting up fast and then bending over and getting up fast again caused me to get light-headed, because I staggered to the door and exited in a decidedly un-ninja fashion.



Five minutes later I was lying in bed with my shorts down to my thighs, beating off in the dark and imagining my sister masturbating in the shower.

[NuclearHistory]

Enjoyed so much reading this thread. Hope to read more.

[decrody]

Great share TS, camping for more.

[JEMMA]

It bothered me. Maybe that sounds dumb, but it did. And the reason it bothered me was because when I came, imagining Jasmine with a finger plugged into her pussy, it was a really hard, really enjoyable cum. Really enjoyable. It was so enjoyable, in fact, that it kind of convinced me I really was a pervert. I didn't know how I'd become a pervert, but the fact was unavoidable as I found myself gripping my softening penis and discovered that the sock I'd planned to shoot on hadn't even come close to being up to the task.



I got up and cleaned up the stripe of cum on my floor, and tried to sop up what had gotten on the bedspread. I kept imagining my mother coming in the door and finding me cleaning up cum spots. I hadn't locked the door because I had the lights out.

Basically I was a mess. I suddenly had the HOTs for my sister, or at least for my sister when she was in the shower. The rest of the time she was the same old Jasmine, except that now I noticed the bulge of her breasts, and imagined what was packed into her shorts. Of course I couldn't look her in the eyes. If I did, she'd know instantly that her pervy brother was thinking forbidden thoughts. But I didn't think she'd notice. We tried to have as little to do with each other as possible, usually.

I felt so bad that I managed to wait an entire week before I just had to see that vague image again.

It was a repeat of the previous time, though things went much better, assuming you can call sneaking in to peek at your sister in the shower as being any kind of okay. But this time I was prepared for everything. Again I'd refrained from going to the toilet so I actually had to go in there. I knew I'd have to get the stream going, so I teased my cock right away. This time I kept an eye on the shower door while I did it, and this time it was aimed at the porcelain instead of the water when something started happening. I sat there, kind of hunched over, watching her indistinct, tantalizing form move around in the shower. I could see she was washing her breasts. She washed them a long time and it was impossible not to imagine her doing it for purposes other than getting them clean.



I was still rock hard when I finished peeing, and I honestly think it was unconscious that I kind of teased my cock some more. I mean I always milked it to get the last drops of pee out, whether it was hard or soft, but I milked it a lot more than was necessary. Anyway, I suddenly realized I was almost jerking off, watching her hands slide all over her chest like that. That kind of freaked me out. I mean it was one thing to lie on my bed and imagine seeing her, but it seemed like another thing to actually stare at her vague image while I did that.

So I got up and ninjaed back out of the bathroom. I didn't even make it to my bed before I was beating my meat like it owed me money and couldn't pay. I came so fast I wasn't prepared. I didn't have anything to shoot my spooge into. I gave about half a second to thinking about just cumming in my free hand, but that seemed gross, so I just squeezed it hard when I felt it coming.

Man! Have you ever done that? It's crazy! First it was painful. I know cumming is always painful ... in a happy kind of way ... but this was over the top. It didn't stop my orgasm. I mean I still had one, but without the soothing part. It was intense. It's hard to come up with a description of how it felt, but it wasn't on the bad side of things at all. I've done it a couple of times since then just because it feels so different, OMG kind of different.

Yeah, I know, it's crazy. But the whole situation was crazy. And it was making me a little crazy, too.

Which is why, the next time I peeked at her, I just sort of ... well ... jerked off while I did it.

It started weird. What I mean is that Jasmine and I were watching America's Got Talent in the family room, and when it was over, she stood up and stretched and said, "I'm going to go take a shower." That sounds pretty normal, except Jasmine wasn't in the habit of telling me much of anything about her life. I mean why did she care whether I knew what she was going to do in the next ten minutes? It was just out of character for her. Weird.

And of course I started getting a boner almost as soon as she said it.

"Okay," I said, like my approval mattered.

"Night," she said.

That was weird, too. She never wished me good night.

Jasmine took some of her showers in the morning. I didn't know why. I always took a shower when I got up, rather than when I went to bed. Most of that was because I stayed up until I was sleepy, and a shower kind of invigorates you, you know? So I chose to be invigorated in the morning, rather than just before I went to bed.

But Jasmine had some secret system where she took some showers in the morning and some at night. And I was pretty sure she'd taken one that morning.

But I didn't stop to think about it then. I just thought about how I hadn't prepared, and didn't have to pee. Of course you can force yourself to pee just about anytime if it's been a little while since you did it last, but I had gone to the toilet during one of the commercials, so I didn't really have to go. Don't ask me why I had this twisted thought process, but I felt kind of nervous because if I went in there, I had no excuse at all except that I wanted to see Jasmine's nakedness through that frosted glass.

I was too far gone, though. I knew I'd sneak in there anyway, and feeling bad about it didn't stop me from doing it.

So I gave her time to get in the shower and did my ninja thing, carefully opening the door and going in on tiptoes. I had, in fact, oiled the hinges but I always left the door a few inches open in case I had to make a fast escape. I sat down on the toilet, like usual, but since I didn't have to pee, all I did was stroke my cock. Jasmine was humming a tune, but I didn't pay any attention to what it was.



The next thing I knew I was jerking off, staring at Jasmine's form through the glass. She'd been washing her breasts when I got in there. The fact that she was facing the door didn't make an impression on me. She usually turned and faced every direction sooner or later. And when I started doing it ... actually masturbating while I watched her ... both of her hands slid down and started washing between her legs. I convinced myself she was masturbating too, and it was so hot that I only lasted maybe two minutes. When it happened, since the toilet bowl was right there, I just aimed it down and let it blast.



Almost instantly I realized how stupid I'd been. I should have choked it off. Now there were strings of cum in the bowl, some of it floating on the water, and I couldn't flush the stool.

All I could do was put the lid down, which I did, and then fled. I figured I could go back in after she left and get rid of the evidence.

[JEMMA]

I'm telling you, it was like a drug. And, like a closet drug addict, I was living two lives. In one I acted as normal around my sister as I could. Nothing about that life was any different than before. We still barely spoke and never did anything together. She still complained about things I did, or didn't do, and I still called her a bitch. And in that life she didn't complain to our parents that there was some stringy white stuff in the toilet after she took a shower. Or maybe she didn't see it. I don't know. Maybe she just dried off and left without lifting the lid and never saw it.

In my other life, though, our relationship was completely different. At least in my mind. In that life I resisted the drug as long as I could and then snuck in to jerk off, staring at her pale form through the glass, wondering what she'd look like if she stepped out and I could actually see the details. In my real life there was no way to assuage that desire - to see her naked. We weren't nudists, and didn't run around the house in nothing or even next to nothing.

That fantasy life intruded on my real one in other ways, too. She was popular and got invited to parties and sleepovers all the time. She wasn't allowed to date yet, but I knew that day would come and she'd go out with a lot of guys. Being a guy myself, I knew what guys tried to get away with when they got a girl alone.

Basically, I knew there were other guys out there who wanted to see her soft, creamy naked skin too, and her pink nipples. Were they pink? It didn't matter. I couldn't help but wonder how far she let them get. Would she let any of them between her legs? Would she give up her virginity to her prom date? That seemed to be the common plan, at least if you believed the rumors.



It made my blood boil.

Okay, well maybe not boil. But it did make me jealous and I realized I was jealous, which was crazy because none of it had even happened yet. It was just one more push to get me on my way to the loony bin.

I knew I'd get there some day. The loony bin, I mean. I had fantasies about that, too. In one of them I was at Burger King and some guy came in with a gun and said he was robbing the place. Then he demanded that all the girls kiss him and he started feeling them up. In this particular deluded imagining my sister wasn't even there, but I defended her anyway. I went all apeshit on the guy and went into ninja mode and almost killed him.

I know nothing about being a ninja, by the way. Just what I've seen in Bruce Lee and Jackie Chan movies. Which amounts to nothing. But I was unhinged so that didn't bother me.

It got so bad that I actually thought about going to my parents and telling them about this unhealthy fixation I had on my sister and asking them to get me to a shrink. And I might have done that, too, had not something even crazier happened.

It was on a Saturday morning. I'd slept late, after sneaking in on Jasmine and jacking off again, the night before. I'd almost gotten caught that time because she suddenly turned the water off. I had been right on the cusp of spurting, so my body didn't like the fact I just stopped and jumped up off the throne. I didn't have time to put the cover down and my shorts were only up to my thighs when I made it out the door. I just scooted before she could open the shower door and find me there.

I had gone to bed, then and I had a case of blue balls because what they'd been about to get rid of got all bottled up. Plus I was having a fantasy about how it could have happened if she did catch me. It was a really stupid fantasy. In it, she opened the door and found me with my dick in my hand, whaling away. Her eyes got all big and she squeaked, "Is that because of me?" And of course she got all warm and fuzzy that her brother, her most harsh critic, actually thought she was a babe and all that. And of course it went on from there, while I laid back and stroked and dreamed and finally shot a quart of spunk into a sock.



Yeah, I know it wasn't a quart. A quart wouldn't even fit in a sock. I was just using what Mrs. Tan taught us about in English last year. It's called hyperbole.

Anyway, I slept late the next morning, maybe because of the stress of almost being caught or from a doozy of a cum. Then again, I slept late most Saturdays. I'm a teenager after all. Mr. Goh, in Social Studies, went into this whole thing about how evolution designed things that teenagers stay up late, tending the fire while the hunters have sex and sleep. Then the teens sleep until noon the next day while the women get the day going and the men go out to hunt again. He didn't say anything about the teens having sex while they stayed up late, but it makes sense to me. If the parents are asleep in the cave or stick shelter or whatever, and the teens are all up sitting around the campfire, what else are they going to do?

So I got up and went to the bathroom, to get rid of my morning wood, and I decided to get something to eat before I took my shower. Jasmine was sitting at the kitchen table leafing through a glamour magazine. She looked up when I came in the room.

"Hey," she said.

"Isn't that supposed to be 'Hey, dickhead?'" I quipped. Don't ask me why I did that. It was stupid. But I did and once something is out, you can't get it back in.

"Okay," she said, amiably. "Hey, dickhead."

"Where's Mom?" I asked. Some Saturdays Mom got up and made pancakes. I had hoped this was such a Saturday.

"She and Daddy went over to the hospital to visit some sick person," she said. "They're also going to go shopping and go to a movie while they're there."

"Oh," I said. "I was hoping for pancakes."

"Make them yourself," she said.

"I don't know how," I admitted.

"It's not rocket science," she snorted.

You have to understand that this was probably the longest conversation we'd had in a long time. We didn't just chat about stuff.

I opted not to engage in any science at all, rocket or otherwise, and got down a box of Fruity Pebbles. I poured a bowl and got the milk and sat down.

"Gee," said Jasmine. "Did you get enough? Why not just eat straight out of the box?"

This was the more normal Jasmine. I ignored her.

Later, while I was eating, she noted, "Don't be such a pig when you eat. Ewww. You're so gross."

"Takes one to know one," I mumbled through a mouthful of colorful puffed cereal. I know, it was lame, but it was all I could come up with on the spur of the moment.

She sat there and ignored me, going back to her magazine. I ate, put the dishes in the sink and then left.



After an aberrant probably-one-time-only spurt of actual conversation, we had stopped talking to each other again.

Things were back to normal.

[JEMMA]

Chapter two

I said at the end of the last chapter that everything was back to normal again between my sister and me, but this the part which, if it were in a movie, there would be tense music playing and you'd know that everything was not back to normal. You wouldn't know what was coming, but you'd know something was going to happen that was going to scare the shit out of you.

Me? I was fat, dumb, and happy, clueless in every sense of the word. Just like the character in that movie, who blithely goes forward to his doom while you out there in audience land yell at the screen, telling him not to open that door, or turn that corner or whatever. Well ... your girlfriend yells like that. Not you. Us guys are too cool to talk to TV and movie screens.

And it was exactly like that scene in the Hitchcock thriller where the woman is in the shower and the guy whips the curtain back and sticks a knife in her. Okay, maybe it wasn't exactly like that. I mean there was a glass door, not a shower curtain, and nobody had a knife. Nobody even ripped the door open. But it felt like somebody had stuck a knife in me.

That's because while I was taking my shower, Jasmine walked in, put the lid to the toilet down, and sat on it, facing me. She just sat there, waiting.

And I could see her clear as day.

It turns out that water running down the glass of a frosted shower door does something to the optical quality of the glass that turns it clear. At least from the inside out. And that meant from the first time I snuck in to take a leak, to the last time I masturbated while staring at the same door she was staring at ... my sister had seen everything I did as if there were no door there at all.

She didn't do anything. She just sat there, looking at me through the door. I didn't know what to do. I'd had the beginnings of a boner when I got in, anticipating maybe jerking off while I took my shower, but there was no bone in the boner now. No, sir. Not a splinter of a bone. In fact, my dick shrank and got like maybe an inch and a half long. I couldn't see it, but I could feel it with the hands I'd put over it when I realized how busted I was.

It was a long shower, but it couldn't go on endlessly. Eventually the hot water ran out and it got really cold, so I had to turn the water off. Still, she just sat there.

Even in a situation like that you can't just stay in there forever. The towels were all on racks outside the shower. You couldn't reach over the door to get one. You had to at least open the door and reach through that opening. So that's what I did.

I found out she'd removed all the towels and that they were on the floor next to her feet. I hadn't noticed that, before.

"Need a towel?" she asked, her voice full of false innocence.

"What if Mom caught you in here?" I asked, gruffly, playing the big brother card.

Yeah, you can imagine how effective that was.

She tossed her head and her lip curled into an almost sneer as I remembered that our mother was forty miles away enjoying the day with our father.

I looked down at the neatly stacked towels on the floor by her right foot. I wanted to get one, but to do that I'd have to come out where my two-inch-long penis would be on full display. Even my balls were sucking up into my body at the moment.

"What do you want?" I asked.

Now I'll tell you I was prepared to be blackmailed. Well, not exactly prepared, but you know that I mean. I probably should have said I expected her to blackmail me. I anticipated all sorts of dire threats to tell not only our parents, but all my friends, and all her friends and maybe even people at church all about how I was a pervert and a wanker who got off on watching his sister in the shower. She could ruin me pretty much forever if she wanted to. So the sky was the limit, in terms of what she could demand. I didn't have a lot of money. In our little town the only jobs I could get were temporary odd jobs. I did, in theory, have a part time job at McDonald's, but I only worked five or six hours a week, usually sorting through the nuts and creamers that customers had mixed up, or restocking bags of spices for various customers, both adults and children, stuff like that. I envisioned, briefly, having to do all her chores until I was in my thirties.

What I was not prepared for - and I now use that word in a more appropriate fashion - was for what she said.

"I figured if you get to watch me, then it's only fair that I get to watch you," she said.

My brilliant rejoinder was, "Uh ... what?" My voice sounded like I was maybe twelve.

"What part of 'I get to watch you' didn't you understand?" she asked. There was an edge to her voice. I found out later her expectations were for me to dance for joy. You know ... go all pervy happy on her.

"Why?" I asked. I was truly mystified.

"Oh come on, Samuel," she snorted. "You know why."

"No I don't," I insisted, quite honestly.

"Why do you like watching me?" she asked.

I was rattled, which is probably why the first thing that popped into my head was what I said.

"Because you're a frickin' babe," I said.



Now I know I said in the beginning of all this that Jasmine was very normal looking and all that. But my perception of her had morphed as my desires concerning her had morphed. She hadn't gotten any better looking or anything. I just perceived her differently. That's not odd. It doesn't matter if you're a guy or a girl, as you look around there are some people of the opposite sex who you are attracted to, and others you aren't. But the ones you aren't attracted to are attractive to somebody else, so it all works out in the end. No matter what you look like, somebody out there thinks you're HOT.

I don't know whether that's what happened to me, or whether she just grew on me. Well, mostly she grew on me in the area of my groin. But how I thought about her had changed in my brain, too. I don't know. All I know is that's what popped into my mind, so that's what I said. I met a professor since then who told me that when you are asked a question, the very first thing that pops into your mind is the truth. It might not be what you say, but it's probably the truth.

This announcement was met with surprise. That's probably no surprise to you, but it was to her. Her mouth opened and then closed again. I saw the blush that came from inside her T shirt and came up her neck to her cheeks.

"Really?" Her voice kind of squeaked.

I was beginning to realize that my life might not be over and that feeling made me so giddy that I had a hard time thinking rationally. I sort of nodded and I'm quite sure I had a goofy smile on my face.

"I just thought it was because the girls you went out with shut you down all the time," she said.

That cut through my giddiness like a hot knife and the typical teenage male in me popped out.

"What?" I was injured! "I don't get shut down!"

"Yes you do," she snorted. "I talk to most of them. You have a reputation, Sam."

"Reputation?"

"Yes. Believe it or not, all the girls around here think you're a really nice guy."

"What?" My voice rose. I was confused again. I wasn't nice! I was manly! I was in shape, and had a twinkle in my eye. My mother said I reminded her of Daniel Wu. I didn't know who he was, but I could tell by the way she said it that it meant I was good looking.

But the fact of it was that I did get shut down on dates pretty regularly. The farthest I had ever gotten was when Rebecca let me feel her breasts through her shirt (and bra) but that was about it. I got lots of kisses, had made out for hours, in fact, but when my hands roamed, they got pushed away.



"And that you don't have a future," added Jasmine.

You know that sound they use in the movies of a phonograph needle being scraped across the grooves of one of those old-timey records? I actually heard that in my head.

"What? What do you mean I don't have a future? What kind of shit is that?"

My sister frowned. She didn't like curse words and made no bones about expressing her distaste - with anybody! Including complete strangers.

"You haven't applied to any colleges," she said. "You don't have any plans. To all the girls around here that means you're going to stay here and work at McDonald's for the rest of your life. They, on the other hand, have lots of plans, all of which involve getting them out of this town forever."

I had no defense for that. I did not, in fact, have any idea what I was going to do when I graduated. The thought of four more years of books and tests and studying just didn't have a lot of appeal to me. I had given some vague thought to the military, but even that hadn't boiled down to which of the services I thought I might like. There was plenty of time for that. I had a whole year of college schooling left, after all.

"Let's get back to this 'nice' business," I said.

"Oh, that?" She shrugged. "All that means is that most of the girls who go out with you are afraid they'll like you too much."

"What?" Now I was beyond mystified. I was astonished! "What the heck does that mean?" I was so agitated that I actually stepped out of the shower. Jasmine's eyes shot straight to my less than impressive (at the moment) equipment. Then, to my surprise ... and maybe just a little disappointment ... her eyes came back up to my face.

"If a girl likes a boy ... really likes him ... she's tempted to do things that aren't wise. And if she does those things, then she usually falls in love with him. So if you don't want to fall in love with a boy, you just don't do those things. It's simple, really. It's actually kind of like what Mom says about saving yourself for that special person. You don't want to lose control and do something stupid, like falling in love with somebody who has no future. That's why you never get very far on your dates."

"I have a future," I said, defensively.

"Oh yeah? What is it?"

There we were, back to an area I didn't really want to discuss. Well ... couldn't discuss, actually.

"Never mind that. Why are you here?"

"To watch you take a shower," she said, simply.

"I know that part," I groaned. "But why do you want to watch me take a shower?"

"Didn't we already have this conversation?" she asked. "Why did you want to watch me?"

I was distracted by her use of "conversation" in the sentence. That's because I realized I was actually having an extended conversation with my sister! And it seemed completely normal. Well, other than the fact that I was standing there naked and dripping. Actually, I wasn't dripping all that much anymore. I looked down and saw the bath mat was pretty damp. I took a step and leaned down to get a towel. It covered my groin when I stood up, which I admit was intentional, but that didn't last because I needed to dry my hair. But this situation was strange enough that I felt okay doing that. When I pulled the towel off my head, Jasmine's eyes were on my dick again.

"It looks really thin not thick," she observed. She looked up and must have seen something in my face (what would be on your face if some girl said that to you?) and she amended her comment. "Compared to what it's like when you watch me in the shower," she added. Then she went on some more. "From what I could see, anyway. It's harder to see through the glass from the outside than I expected. It was easy to see it from the inside, but I thought you could see me that well, too, so I had to pretend I wasn't looking at you. It definitely looks thinner now, though."

I couldn't very well tell her it was thinner because I was scared to death, so I went with something else. "This is weirding me out," I said.

"Why? I'd think you were used to it after watching me all those times."

"I didn't know you could see me," I said. "The glass is different from the outside. All I could see was a kind of blurry outline."

"I know," she said. "I figured that out when I came in here to watch you."

"Yeah," I said.

Neither of us said anything and it started to get uncomfortable. She broke the silence.

"So you got all excited over just my blurry outline?"

I still wasn't home free on the blackmail front. And even though there had been nothing said about perverts or anything like that, I suddenly didn't want my sister to think I was one.

"I didn't actually mean for that to happen," I said. "Not at first, anyway. It was sort of an accident. I had to pee really bad and I didn't think you'd notice if I slipped in and did that and then left."

"Yeah," she said. "That was the first time. I saw you right away, but you did your business and left. I was mortified of course. I almost told Mom about it. But I thought about it and decided you were just being a jerk instead of a douche bag."

The distinction was lost on me, but I didn't particularly care for her to expound on that, so I moved on.

"The problem was that I did see your outline that time, and it was ... sexy?"

I got the blush again.

"And it excited me," I admitted.

"Who did you think about?" she asked.

"What?"

"What girl did you think about when you saw my form and got excited?"

"Nobody," I said. "I thought about you."

"No you didn't. Guys don't think about their sisters like that."

"Well I did," I admitted. "I thought, 'That's Jasmine in there, and she looks pretty good.'"

"Oh," she said, going pink for a third time.

"But I felt bad about it," I said. "When I got back to my bedroom I thought of other things."

"You mean you looked at your dirty pictures," she said.

The only way she could know about those was if she'd been snooping. I got mad but she held up a hand, facing me like a stop sign.



"I'm sorry. I found them last year. I haven't violated your privacy since then."

And that brought us up to the present.

"I'm sorry I violated yours," I said. I meant it, too.

"I felt violated at first," she admitted. "But not anymore."

"I don't understand," I said.

"Something strange happened," she said.

"You can say that again," I said. "This whole thing has been strange. What was the strangest part to you?"

I was being sarcastic, but she didn't take it that way. In fact, she just answered the question.



"I realized I ... um ... kind of liked it," she said, softly.... .....

[Snite]

Nice story, wonderful pics!!