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- Mar 10, 2010
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This story is from a writer i highly respect and i have his full permission to distribute this story. He has done many stories but few respect the boundaries of BMR thus this is the only one i can share. It is a work of fiction, and neither he nor I endorse the actions portrayed in the story.
=Disclaimer= No edits were made to the story aside from the keywords being fully spelled out. I do not claim any ownership of this story, only the permission to freely distribute it.
again this is a work of fiction.
Leave comments if you enjoyed the story, as he appreciates feedback.
=Disclaimer= No edits were made to the story aside from the keywords being fully spelled out. I do not claim any ownership of this story, only the permission to freely distribute it.
Author: AnonyMPC
Title: The Unplugged Challenge
Summary: Two teens are forcibly cut off from the Internet, cell phones, and other electronics, by their mother who wants them to become closer. She'll be surprised by how close they get...
Keywords: m/f, consensual, incest
"The Unplugged Challenge" by AnonyMPC (mf, cons, inc)
***
Chapter One:
I’d been home for three hours, and the first time I’d left my room was to go down to the kitchen to get something to eat. Mom was there with that tense look about her that always made me want to avoid her even more than I usually did. She was stewing about something and I just hoped it wasn’t about me. Calling attention to her mood would do more harm than good, so I just heated up a microwave dinner and kept my back to her, not speaking.
Mom spoke, instead, in a weary, resigned voice. “Bobby, how was school?”
I shrugged. “The usual.” I heard a buzz from my pocket and felt a wash of relief. It was a text from my friend Jack, part of an ongoing conversation we’d been having about whether Traci Roth had ulterior motives for sitting at our table at lunch. We’d joked that it might mean she liked one of us, but I didn’t really believe it. I was more worried it was the prelude to some elaborate prank, where she pretended to like us in order to humiliate us later. The truth was she hadn’t even sat that close to us, most likely it wasn’t about us at all, but we had to talk about something. I tended to assume the worst case, anyway, it just felt safer.
“Where’s your sister?” Mom asked as I read the text and thought about how to answer.
I started tapping out a reply, to the text, while I answered Mom absently. “I don’t know, in her room maybe?” I didn’t see Krista on the bus and for all I knew she hadn’t come home at all. “You have her cell number, why are you asking me?”
“Hmm,” Mom said neutrally. “You should have a real meal.”
I shrugged. The microwave beeped, and I grabbed the plate. “This is fine.” With that, I returned to my room. There, I had the world at my fingertips, friends, even strangers I could talk with at a moment’s notice… and unlike my Mom, they weren’t liable to snap my head off because they were in a bad mood.
About a half hour later, I heard my name being called, but I ignored it, and put headphones on so that I’d have an excuse. If it was important enough, Mom would just barge in and I could pretend I hadn’t heard. If not, I was safer hiding out.
No such luck. A few minutes passed and, I got a text. It was from my sister. “Mom wants us dwnstairs. Fam meeting.”
Great. I rolled my eyes, waited a couple minutes for good measure, and then made my way downstairs. Mom, Dad, and my sister Krista were all in the living room. Krista’s hands were in her lap. Like me, she had a cell phone with her at all times, and she must have been waiting for a call or text. Dad sat on the easy chair, his chair, looking to Mom with a bored expression on his face.
Mom stood in the center, waiting. “Sit down,” she said to me with a glare. I took a seat by Krista, suddenly worried that the glare meant this meeting was somehow about me. Had Mom looked in on our Internet history and saw the porn sites I’d checked out? Or maybe she’d heard my grades in History were falling faster than the Hindenburg. Which I assume fell fast, but it was a blimp, so I made a note to Google it. I was normally good in history, but they changed the seating plan and now I was sitting right next to superhot Mary Flannigan. I was so worried about not looking stupid, or worse, like a nerd, in front of her that I could barely pay attention any more.
Finally, Mom’s gaze turned away from me. I shot a glance at Krista, who looked up from her phone and gave me a shrug. “I’ve been doing a lot of thinking lately, and I can’t shake the feeling that something’s just not right with us all.”
A text came. I looked at it, realized from the number that it was from my sister, right beside me. “Have bd feeling abt ths.” I nodded.
Oblivious to our communication, Mom continued. “So, since I had the day off today, I was watching some television.”
“Uh oh,” I muttered. “We’ve been down this road before.”
“Bobby, let your mother finish.” Dad looked up to her. “So, what was it this time, Lorraine? Montel Williams?” he asked, his voice full of amusement. If he was willing to poke the bear, he wasn’t too worried about what Mom had on her mind. But then, that was his usual mode.
I guess everybody’s parents are a little weird. They say opposites attract, and it must have in their case. My Dad’s pretty much the most laid-back guy you’ve ever met. Even when one of us kids got in trouble, he never got mad. Sure, he’d punish, but it was for the principle of the thing, he never took it personally. He’d make some sarcastic joke about why what we’d done was stupid, or he’d grin and admit he might have done the same thing, but he never yelled… or got angry, or even was especially surprised, by anything. It was like nothing fazed him. It was good, usually. He was a dependable presence in our lives. He even just looked reassuring, tall, stocky, dark hair graying at the temples. You could almost picture him with an old style pipe as one of those classic TV dads, from the era before all married men in the media were morons.
I guess he had to be laid-back, because my mother, on the other hand, was high-strung, and without Dad’s calming presence in the family, we’d spin out of control. Mom was short, thin, stubborn, quick-tempered, and it was like there was always something on her mind, although what that thing was changed regularly. She’d get something in her head and it would be her new cause for a week or a month or until she forgot about it. On many occasions I wondered if she wasn’t a little bit crazy.
I say that with the full knowledge that I’m also a little bit crazy. Maybe we all were. Krista seemed like the only normal one in the family, but then, I didn’t feel like I knew enough about her lately to judge, either. We were only about a year and a half apart, so she was 15, though I thought she looked younger, and I was 17. Mom chose to have my sister when I was a baby because she heard that an 18 month age gap was the ideal span to ensure siblings were close. It worked, at first… Krista and I were close when we were young, but as we moved into our teens we’d drifted apart. We saw each other on the way to school, but didn’t talk much outside of texts and, once in a while, when she’d burst into my room to ask to borrow something, usually money. So maybe Krista was crazy too, but I hadn’t seen any evidence of it. Sure she had her bitchy days, her quiet days, but mostly she seemed friendly, happy, well-adjusted. She had lots of friends, and was popular. But then, when you’re friendly and good-looking, popularity often follows. Brothers aren’t supposed to think of their sisters like that, but she was really attractive, with a lithe, athletic body, flowing dark hair, flawless complexion, and beautiful green eyes. As far as I could tell she was just an average, though pretty, teenage girl. I kind of liked it that way. Somebody had to be the normal one in the family.
It certainly wasn’t me. I guess in some ways I took after Mom. I was a little tightly wound, although in a different way. I was way too self-conscious. I wasn’t a bad-looking guy, but somehow I was paranoid about what everybody thought about me, and it made my life miserable. It wasn’t rational, but that made it no less real. I always felt like people were judging me, thinking the worst, which consequently made me not want to be seen at all. With girls I tended to obsess over every detail of our interaction, analyzing it for hidden motivations, no matter how innocent, and with almost anybody I was afraid of doing things that might attract undue attention. It was ridiculous. It wasn’t so bad with family, and gradually over years I’d come to trust a few friends enough to be comfortable with them, but the fears of what people were thinking were always there, lurking. I had no claim to normalcy.
But at least Dad’s utter unflappability was just a source of amusement, and my bouts of paranoid neurosis affected me alone. Mom’s particular brand of crazy sometimes exploded and made the rest of our lives hell for a while. We’d all seen the signs before. One of them was Mom watching television all day.
She seemed oblivious to the warning sign herself, though. “What?” Mom asked, as though Dad’s question had come out of nowhere.
“You’ve been watching talk shows again, haven’t you?” Dad asked with a grin. “They always give you ideas.”
“They do not.”
But they did. Some of the worst things that could trigger Mom’s ‘causes’ were daytime talk shows. She worked a 9-5 job, so she couldn’t watch them very often, but sometimes she would have a day off and nothing to do, and would find herself watching one, and that was where the danger began… she got absorbed and took them too seriously.
“Sure, Mom,” I said. “Remember that time you saw Dr. Phil talking about teen drug abuse and you tore through both of our rooms looking for hidden stashes?” She hadn’t found any. I don’t even smoke.
Krista smiled. “Or when Tyra Banks had a show on sexting, and you took my cell phone looking for dirty pictures?”
“My favorite,” Dad said, a twinkle in his eye, “was when she watched Maury Povich.” That was one for the books. When he had one of his regular episodes on cheating husbands, Mom demanded Dad take a lie detector test to prove he hadn’t been unfaithful during their marriage. He finally told her he’d be happy to, as long as they got a paternity test on the kids, too. She was instantly offended at the accusation, which made her step back and realize how much she must have offended him, too. Mom took the point and calmed down, one of the rare times Dad had been able to cut her off early before she got too crazy. I hoped whatever she had in mind, this might be another of those times.
“Let’s just hope it’s not Jerry Springer,” Krista said, setting Dad up for the old family joke.
“I hope not. I don’t think I’m ready for your mother to become a transsexual stripper, or to sleep with her cousin,” Dad said.
“Don’t make jokes. You know how I hate that Springer. And this is nothing like those other times.” She took a breath, and then said, “I was watching Oprah…” We collectively groaned. Another family joke was that Mom’s queen was Oprah Winfrey. She bought all the books for her Book Club, and supported the causes Oprah supported. She even voted Obama because of Oprah. “But it was about something I’ve been thinking about for a long time. The show just gave me the idea.” We waited for the bomb to drop, what crazy idea Oprah had given her. “I really think this family needs some more togetherness. We’re drifting apart, with our cell phones and computers.” She snatched the phone out of Krista’s hands. My sister had been racing her thumbs over the keypad, not listening. “And your texting. We’ve forgotten about the basics. Today on Oprah they had a family. A lot like ours. They didn’t have time for each other. What they did was they gave up the television, the Net, and all their cell phones for a week. It was called the…” She struggled to remember. That was just like Mom too, get all excited about an idea but forget the specifics. “The No Net Challenge. No, the Unplugged Challenge. Something like that. But I think we need to do the same thing.”
No computers for a week? “That’s crazy!” I said. “What are we supposed to do with ourselves?”
“We connect, Bobby. We talk about what’s going on in our lives. We could even play board games. You remember how we used to play board games when you were young? It was fun.”
I did not recall that at all, and in fact didn’t believe it was true.
“Sounds pretty lame, Mom. You can’t take our phones and stuff away,” Krista whined. “That’s like our whole social life.”
“No, it isn’t, you just think it is. This family’s a kind of social life too, and we’ve all been seriously neglecting it. I blame myself as much as you, but it’s you who are going to pay the price for it.” She looked at the two of us. “Look at you, you used to be inseparable, and now you barely talk. In a few years you’ll be out of the house and on your own lives. I don’t want the two of you winding up as the kind of siblings whose only contact is a card on Christmas and birthdays.”
I rolled my eyes. Of course we’d be in contact. There was Facebook. I may not be super close to my sister, but I wouldn’t defriend her.
“Can’t we like, just do something a lot less extreme than this?” Krista asked. “Like have a weekly family game night or something? I’m willing to give up my Monday.”
“Right,” I agreed. I could sacrifice one day, for a couple weeks until Mom got tired of it. “But maybe not Monday. My guild and I quest on Mondays in Warcraft.”
“Well, it can’t be Tuesday, I…”
Mom interrupted the negotiation. “One week. It’s not that long. Extreme times call for extreme measures. It won’t be so bad. You know, the family on the show was practically a different family by the end of it.”
I looked to my Dad for help, but he just shrugged. “You know how hard it is to talk your mother out of things like this.” So there’d be no help from him this time. Sometimes him being so laid-back was aggravating in its own way too. But maybe he was right; usually the best way to handle Mom’s causes was to ride it out as best we could. A week with no Internet, no TV, no phones? It sounded like hell, but how bad could it really be?
***
Chapter Two:
The next day after school, the great purge began. Mom went into each of our rooms and confiscated most of our electronics, although Krista persuaded her to let us keep music players on the grounds that music helped her do homework. Virtually everything else, along with the TV and the microwave (because part of the Challenge included making meals from scratch), went into lock-up in the basement.
After that, we suffered through the first night of enforced family togetherness, worse because it was a Friday night. Krista resented being made to stay home instead of going out with her friends. I had no specific plans, but I didn’t resent it any less. I’d have rather been safe in my room, talking to friends on the Internet, instead of talking with family.
The talking wasn’t that bad, but it was pretty awkward. Everyone ran out of things to say very quickly… at least when talking about television and movies was outlawed by Mom in the first few minutes.
We were supposed to reconnect, become closer, but I didn’t really want to share anything too personal, for fear that they might judge me. I suspect it was the same was true for Krista, who mostly talked about her Tumbling class the previous day. So that was why she wasn’t on the bus Thursdays. I’d wondered.
When it was my turn, I managed to find enough to talk about to satisfy Mom, but most of it was bullshit. I made up things happening to my friends, mostly cribbed from TV shows. I think Krista was on to me, since I saw her grinning at me while I related a story from Degrassi. She didn’t bust me though, which was cool of her.
While we talked, we played a game, but it was pretty dull. Rolling dice and moving counters around a board was no substitute for real entertainment. “I don’t know why we couldn’t do this bonding thing over a video game,” I muttered, several times that night. Mom’s only answer was a glare, when she got tired of ignoring me.
After that first game, with plenty of the night left to go, we sat around staring at each other, trying to decide what to do next. Pretty soon, my sister left for the bathroom and returned with her iPod, ear buds in her ears. That gave me the idea to do the same with my MP3 player. Dad got out an old book. Meanwhile Mom stewed, upset that her plan wasn’t working out.
The next day, Mom declared that all electronics were on the banned list, and confiscated even the music players. “If we want music, we’ll sing as a family.” Then she made it even worse. “And, since we didn’t really do it right that first time, I’m extending the challenge another day.”
The plan for Saturday, also stolen from Oprah, involved the family, both individually and as a group, cleaning the whole house. Boring, but, at least, it was better than talking. By the end of the day, I was able to see the floor of my room again. But then, another night of awkwardness stretched before us, this time longer than the last. Mom filled the silence by suggesting activities for the next couple of nights. “We could all go on a picnic. Or go hiking. Something to get us out of the house.”
“Can’t we just give this up, Mom?” I asked. “This is boring. I want my Internet.”
“You know, when I watched the show, the kids all hated it at first but by the end they were really happy they’d done it,” Mom said. “So really, this is going according to plan.”
“At least we’re agreed that we hate it then.” We made it through the night, barely.
The next day, I broke. It was Sunday. Mom dragged us all to Church. Church. What were we, medieval peasants? We hadn’t been to church since Krista’s baptism. The preacher droned on about love and faith. Meanwhile, I was obsessing. I couldn’t get all the potential conversations I’d been missing with my friends out of my head. They knew about the challenge, laughed about it on Friday. Were they having some exciting time I couldn’t be a part of? Or were they talking about me and what a loser I was for having to go through with it? For not sneaking away?
I decided I couldn’t just take it and let Mom win. Who’d respect that? So I resolved to break into the basement to get my cell phone sometime after church. I couldn’t get my computer out or hook it up without drawing too much attention, but I could keep a cell phone hidden and only use it when it was safe.
Getting in wouldn’t be a problem either. There was a window with an open latch, accessible from the backyard. I’d noticed it the first day, but kept it my little secret. While Mom and Dad were busy with something inside the house, I asked to go into the backyard to get some sun.
I made it in easily, but as I climbed out of the window into the backyard, Krista was there staring at me. I thought she might bust me, but she leaned down conspiratorially. “What did you get?” she whispered. I held up my cell phone. “Can you get mine? It’s got a pink skin on it. I’ll cover you.” I thought about it, shrugged. Why not? I asked her to hold mine, and then went back in for it. It didn’t take long; I’d already seen where it was.
When I gave her hers, she smiled. “Thanks.” Then Mom came around the corner. She must have come out through the side door instead of from the back, where Krista could see her coming. I imagine she heard something downstairs and snuck around that way deliberately to try to surprise us, to catch us in the act.
We both tried to hide our phones behind our backs, but it was too late, she’d seen everything. “That’s it. Just for that, we’re going to two weeks.”
“Two weeks?” I cried. It was inhuman.
“And every time you break one of the rules again, we’ll go another one. You want to try me?” She held her hands out. “Give me the phones.”
Krista sighed and turned over hers. I followed suit. Mom went back inside. “Nice going,” Krista said.
“Hey, if I didn’t go back for yours, I would have gotten away clean. You were supposed to keep watch.” She stalked off.
Krista made the next move in the rebellion against the Unplugged Challenge. Monday morning, as we headed towards the bus, I joked about another long boring night of board games ahead of us. “Have fun with that,” she said. “I’m spending the night at Quinn’s.”
“What? You want to stretch out another week of this?”
She smiled. “It’s not against the rules to visit friends after school, so long as I’m home before curfew.”
“She’ll just order you back.”
She gave a smug smirk. “How’s she going to do that? It’s not MY fault if I don’t have my cell phone on me, is it?”
She had a point, and a good plan. So I copied it. After school I spent a couple hours at a friend’s place, enjoying his Internet while suffering through some of his good-natured razzing about all the ways my life must suck without access.
As usual, the rebellion was short lived. By the time I returned home, because his parents wouldn’t let me stay for dinner, Mom was there and guessed what we were up to. I talked her out of extending the punishment on the grounds that we technically hadn’t broken any rules, at least not that she could prove, but that just made Mom make a new rule. No going out to friends without explicit permission. Krista learned of it a few hours later when she made it back.
I expected that was coming, but it felt pretty good to get away with it the one time. Mom can talk all she wants about how computers are distancing us from each other, but to be connected again, even for a couple hours, was worth it.
However, there was one problem my little rebellion still hadn’t solved. It was probably my biggest problem with the Unplugged Challenge, the one I wouldn’t have told anybody. The boredom was aggravating, of course. Nights seemed to take twice as long and I was almost grateful for school just so that I could talk to my friends. But I could have suffered through all that with only token complaints. My real problem was jacking off.
I’d masturbated pretty much every night since I was twelve. It was how I relaxed, how I got to sleep, how I dealt with the pressure of all the hotties at my school, or accidentally seeing my sister in just a bra and panties. I wasn’t proud of that last one, but the dick doesn’t know right from wrong, it just responds. I didn’t just do it at night, but it was usually the safest time, since my family had a habit of not knocking during the day. While the sun was up, my Mom and sister would sometimes just barge into my room without warning, and it was only after dark that knocking became standard etiquette, although by no means certain. Usually I was too paranoid to start before it was time for bed. At night it was quiet enough that I could hear somebody approaching, and I had an excuse for being under the covers, so I considered it ‘safe’.
But since we’d started this stupid Challenge, I hadn’t jacked off to completion, not once. It was the opposite problem from daytime before. It was just too damn quiet at night.
All the modern technologies, they don’t just provide entertainment, information, a connection to our social life. They also provide background noise. If everybody’s watching TV they’re not likely to notice the soft, repetitive motion coming from my room as I lay in bed, pulling up and down on my stiff prick, my bed shaking and floor creaking ever-so-faintly as I did. And even if nobody else is watching TV, I can turn up my TV loud to cover the noise.
Without television, without the computer, it seemed every sound in the house was magnified. I could hear my Dad clear his throat three rooms away. I was just too scared to masturbate, afraid of the embarrassment that would ensue from them hearing me and knowing what I was doing. Mom and Dad might not say anything, but I’d see it in their eyes, and I was afraid Krista would tease me mercilessly about it.
I can’t even be sure they would hear me if I tried, but in that awful silent house with no computers, fear made me hold back from doing any more than a light stroke, or what I called Penis Pushups, where I flexed the muscles around my dick, making my erection pop up if I was lying on my back or press into the bed if I was on my stomach. That wasn’t enough to get off to, but it was just enough to get me even more horny and frustrated.
I could have taken care of it in the shower, but different neuroses and anxieties would come into play, then, the absurd certainty that my showers were being timed and they’d notice an extra long shower, or that my spunk would clog the drain or, worse, wouldn’t wash down and I wouldn’t notice it, but whoever showered after me, would. It was a silly fear, but I’ve got a lot of silly fears. It’s the thing I hate most about myself.
I cursed myself when I realized that, if I hadn’t gone to my friend’s place, I would have had some time alone in the house after school to take care of the problem. A few days longer and I probably would have broken down and just gotten off in the shower and damn the consequences, but I knew there was a window coming up where I could take care of it safely.
Thursday my sister had Tumbling after school, one of the things I’d learned from our family sharing time. Since it was a school activity, she had Mom’s permission to go as usual, despite the restrictions on our social lives. Mom and Dad would both be at work for an hour and a half after I got home I’d only need about 15 minutes at most to rub one out, probably more like 5 as keyed up as I was, although the lack of Internet porn to get me started might stretch the duration out a little bit. Still, either way, there was plenty of time. I just had to hold out until Thursday.
***
Chapter Three:
It was tough, but I managed it. By the time Thursday actually rolled around, I had built it up in my head as the most epic masturbation session ever. I started to get hard in class even just thinking about fapping. Luckily, I was seated way in the back of the class and was able to force other thoughts into my head by the time the class was over.
I missed my bus because a friend was talking my ear off, and I didn’t feel like I could say, “Shut up, I need to go touch myself,” but it was only a ten minute walk, which would leave me an hour and fifteen minutes once I got home. Even longer because, although it was a ten minute walk, I broke into a run for the home stretch.
Once I unlocked the door, I kicked my shoes aside and stopped in the bathroom for the hand lotion dispenser. Usually I didn’t need that, but I wanted it to feel extra nice this time, since it might well be my last time before the challenge was over. Then, in my room, I pulled my shirt off, and then my jeans and underwear, and lay down over the covers. Normally I didn’t strip naked just to jack off, but I feared with all the cum I’d built up, I’d spray all over the place like a fire hose.
With one hand I grabbed a few tissues from the Kleenex box on my nightstand, and then I lubed up my other hand, and got to work.
I was only a few seconds into it, feeling good as it usually does, when I heard a sudden creak and a gasp. My eyes opened, and there was my sister, standing in my door. One of my worst nightmares, come true, especially as the look of shock slowly transformed into an amused smirk. “What the fuck?” I cried as I covered my dick with one hand and groped around with my other for something to cover it with. “What are you doing home?”
“Tumbling was cancelled.”
Shit. Just my luck. Maybe I should have paid more attention to the morning announcements. “Well, don’t you ever knock?”
“Sorry, I wanted to see if you wanted to play cards or something to kill time. I didn’t think you’d be doing… that. Don’t you usually do that at bedtime?”
I stared in horror. She knew. Who else knew? I’d found a pillow and covered myself with it, still, unfortunately, hard. I wish I could cover my face with another pillow, it was burning and almost certainly bright red. I hated people seeing me blush almost as much as I hated whatever caused me to do so in the first place. “What do you know about it?”
“Come on, it’s hard to miss.” She pinched one of her cheeks with one hand and pulled it out, flapping it back and forth and making a sound a lot like my masturbating. “My room’s right next to yours, and we share a vent, remember?”
We learned as kids that if you listened through that shared vent, you could hear quiet conversations in the other room… but you would have to stand on top of your bed with your ear right next to the metal. The little sneak. “Get the fuck out,” I said.
“Fine. I’ll let you get back to it…” She turned to go, without even the courtesy to close the door, but stopped before she was completely out of sight, paused, then turned back. “Hey, Bobby? Can I ask you something?”
I groaned. “What?”
“Why are you doing it now? I mean, you just came home like a minute ago. What’s the rush? Was there like a really hot girl at school or something?”
Well, there was Mary Flannigan in History class, the girl I’d planned on imagining while I rubbed one out. But I was afraid if I admitted that, it might get out to her. “No, it’s just…” I didn’t know how to explain. “Guys need to do it every now and then.”
“I know. More like every night, right?” I was quiet. “You haven’t been doing it lately.”
“You know, this isn’t exactly the kind of thing I want to be talking about with my sister…” It felt like the extreme flush my face had developed when she barged in was starting to fade, but only because, like an erection, a blush couldn’t last forever. The erection had started to shrink as well.
“It’s cause of Mom, isn’t it? And her Unplugged Challenge?”
I grimaced. Well, she already knew I’d been masturbating. It wasn’t that much more embarrassing. “Yeah, it’s just too quiet. It feels weird. Like people might hear.”
“Oh,” she said, as though that was a revelation. “I know how that is. I thought it was just because of there being no Internet porn.”
“That too.” I thought back on what she said. “What do you mean, you know how that is?”
Now it was her turn to blush, although it was milder, cuter. “Girls need to do it too you know.”
“You do?” I suppose it wasn’t really a surprise, but it was a surprise about my sister, who I’d never thought would, and certainly a shock to hear her admit it.
“Of course.”
“Well, at least you don’t really make noise.”
“I do so. Maybe you just don’t hear it. But since it’s been so quiet I’ve had to be really careful too. It’s not as much fun, and I can’t use my toy.”
“What?”
She blushed again. “I have a thing one of my friends gave me for my birthday. It vibrates. But I can’t use it now. I had to hide it really well so Mom wouldn’t find it during her purge.”
My sister, with a vibrator? I had sometimes heard buzzing coming from her room before, but I always just assumed she was shaving something, or curling her hair, or something else that was in the category of “girl stuff”. Now, though an image of her shoving a long slender rod into her pussy while it shook furiously formed in my head. My cock began to stiffen. I didn’t want it to. “Why are you telling me things like this? I do not need to know stuff like this.”
“I don’t know, you’re all red-faced 'cause I caught you doing something embarrassing… I thought it’d make you feel better.”
It did, a little, but in another way it made the situation more uncomfortable. “Fine, just, could you go somewhere else for a few minutes?”
She looked at me. “Okay, but… don’t you need something to look at?”
“Like what? You got a Playboy magazine stashed somewhere?”
She raised both her eyebrows and widened her eyes, giving me a look that expressed how she couldn’t believe I wasn’t getting what she meant. “No, dummy.” For good measure, she pointed at her chest. There was only a slight bulge beneath her shirt, but it was still obvious.
“You?” I asked incredulously. “But you’re my sister! Are you sure you haven’t been watching the Jerry Springer show?”
Her face fell, and she turned to leave. “Fine, forget I asked.”
I called after her, “Wait!” She slowed, then stopped, then turned, though folded her arms across her chest uncertainly. “You’d be willing to do that?”
She shrugged. “It’s not like I’ve got anything else to do. No TV, no Internet, no phone. Not allowed to go out.” The shrug appeared again. “It’s this or homework.”
“Well, I don’t want you to have to resort to doing homework,” I joked nervously. “Go on, then.” I was now staring at her tits, as though I could already see.
It seemed to me to take forever, but it was probably only a few seconds before she lifted up her shirt over her breasts and used her chin to pin it there.
She wore no bra, which was a pleasant surprise. Then again, her tits were never that big. They were probably an A-Cup, and though they had a pleasing roundness to them and a good shape, they weren’t the huge knockers I usually looked at. Her nipples were light pink, fading out gradually towards the skin, and they even seemed to be a little erect. Size aside, the tits looked almost perfect to me, except for the small triangles of slightly paler skin. Yet the tan lines somehow made it more erotic to me, as though highlighting the fact that I was seeing what I’d previously only seen covered by a swimsuit.
My growing dick fought against the pillow in front of it. It was probably harder than it had ever been, as though the fact that it was my sister made it more exciting than anybody else I’d ever seen. Still keeping one hand on the pillow, I moved my other underneath it and began stroking.
Krista grimaced. “If you’re going to do it like that, I’m going to go.”
“What?”
“Under a pillow? Really?”
“You want to see?” I gaped. “But I’m your brother.”
“So, I’m your sister, and you’re looking at me. I can just pretend it’s some other guy, that’s what you’re doing with me, right?” She thought about what she said and corrected, “Well, but some other girl.”
“Yeah,” I lied. It wasn’t really that she was my sister that made me hesitate. It was a part of it, but mostly it was just my own anxieties. I’d never shown another girl my erect dick, much less masturbated in front of them. I didn’t even undress in front of other guys if I could avoid it. I slacked off in gym class almost solely so I wouldn’t build up enough sweat to really need a shower afterwards. Like most of my anxieties, there was no particular reason behind it except raw, unfocused fear of what other people might think of me. I didn’t know if my dick was normal, too small, too big, looked funny, maybe even smelled funny, or anything like that. I assumed it was probably too small, but I didn’t want to be told it. Especially not by my sister.
“So, let me see. I’m showing you my tits.”
I still didn’t want to show her. So I tried to make excuses. “Yeah, but tits are nothing. You can see tits in PG-13 movies. Masturbation is like a sex act.”
At first that’s all it was, an excuse so that I wouldn’t have to show her. Either she’d accept it and stay, or leave and I could fap to the memory. Her response surprised me. “So, what, I have to do it too, to make it even?”
***
Chapter Four:
It wasn’t what I’d intended, but the thought jerked my dick a little. I was going to have to wash precum stains out of my pillowcase if it kept up like this. “Yeah,” I said. If she refused, I still wouldn’t have to show her. If she didn’t… wow.
“I don’t know about that.”
Damn. I was more disappointed than I thought I’d be. “Well, or at least get all the way naked,” I suggested.
She considered that briefly, then said, “Okay, but you have to take the pillow away first.”
I hesitated one last time. “You’re not going to tell anybody about this?”
“Oh, sure. I’m going to run out and tell everybody I watched my brother jack off while I stripped for him,” she said with a roll of her eyes. Then she looked at me deadly serious. “You better not tell anyone either.”
“I won’t.” I took a deep breath, and then pulled the pillow away. Free from resistance, it sprang forward, flopping down, fully erect. I held myself very still, bracing for possible humiliation.
Instead, she just looked at it for a few seconds, tilted her head, and said, “It’s bigger than I thought it would be.” I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding. Without waiting any more, she pulled her top completely over her head, and then started to unbutton her jeans. Her ass looked good in a pair of jeans, but even better in just a pair of purple and green panties that clung tightly to her. My eyes fixed on her crotch, waiting to see if they’d drop next, not really believing they would. “So are you going to start doing it, or what?”
It was as though I was hypnotized. Still staring at her, my hand slowly moved towards my cock of its own accord, and I began to rub up and down, slowly at first.
Once I’d begun, she pulled the panties down, all the way, and I saw her pussy, at the bottom tip of another tan line triangle. She was shaved bare, and her mound was beautiful jutting outwards just a little. The slit itself looked incredibly tight, with a ribbon of pink flesh in between the lips that separated into two ribbons towards the bottom. “I’m keeping my socks on, 'cause the floor’s kind of cold,” she said.
I didn’t really pay what she was saying much mind. “Yeah, sure, whatever.” I was stroking there, eyes moving back and forth between her pussy and her breasts. I tried not to look at her face, but whenever I looked up from her pussy and caught a glimpse of her watching my dick it ramped up the excitement. A naked girl in my room was hot. That it was my sister was incredibly dirty, somehow beating out even the raunchiest porn.
After a minute or two of just standing there in front of me, Krista looked around and got my computer chair, wheeled it across the floor a little, and sat in it, spreading her legs so I could get a good look. “Hey, Bobby… what do you think about when you do it?”
“I don’t know,” I said. “Girls I like. Sex stuff I want to do.”
“Have you ever done it? Sex?”
I thought about lying, but I just assumed she’d call me on it. I wasn’t exactly a social butterfly and she knew it. “No, but don’t tell anybody.”
Krista leaned back in the chair and one hand crossed over her pussy. One finger ran down the slit, separating the lips just a little as it went. “So what’s the furthest you’ve gotten?”
“Kissing a couple girls. And I felt up Judy Austen a little.” She broke it off soon after. That had ramped up my anxieties; she wouldn’t tell me why, so I’d naturally assumed I’d done it wrong. “How about you?” For some reason, I didn’t think my sister was still a virgin. She was too hot, and had a couple boyfriends, though she wasn’t seeing anybody right now.
“You can’t tell Mom or Dad, right?” I agreed quickly. “I’ve given a couple guys I dated blowjobs. I haven’t actually done it all the way yet, though I came close with Tommy.” Her last boyfriend. They broke up after she caught him kissing her best friend. I only found out about it through Facebook, a couple days after. To cheer her up, I sent a message where I offered to beat the crap out of him. I got a smiley face response and a thanks, but she told me no, which was a huge relief… I didn’t think I could take him. “I’ll probably give it up to the next guy, I think I’m ready. I’m already on birth control.”
I chuckled nervously. “I suppose the brotherly thing to do would be to tell you to wait, but the truth is if it was up to me, I’d have lost mine years ago.”
She smiled. “You’re not a bad looking guy. You probably would have lost it if you were just more confident. A couple of my friends have had crushes on you. They still might.”
My eyes widened. “Really? Who?”
“Nuh-uh. I was sworn to secrecy. Besides, you have to learn to ask out girls who you don’t already know are going to say yes.” That was how it was with Judy, and Krista knew it. The only thing that convinced me to ask her out was because a friend of mine swore she liked me and had been asking him about me. Even then I had to send a message to Krista to make sure that there was no other possible reason she’d be asking my friends questions about me before I had the courage to approach her. The couple other girls I’d kissed had all made the first move. Objectively speaking, that even one had done so suggested that I was good looking, but somehow when I looked in the mirror I never saw what they did, so the anxieties continued.
For a while as I pumped up and down on my dick, I wondered which of her friends might like me, but that thought fled as I noticed her dipping her fingers into her hole, sliding them inside and withdrawing them slick. It wasn’t a one-time motion, she repeated it over and over again. Her thumb would, every so often, make a circular motion, pressing in, not on the clit itself, but on the flesh immediately above it. She was starting to breath differently too, like she was holding her breath for short bursts and then releasing it all at once. Seeing my sister masturbate so openly made me pick up my pace as well.
“So, do you think I’m hot?” she asked suddenly. “I mean, forgetting that you’re my brother. Just pretend you’re some guy and we don’t know each other.”
“Yeah,” I said. It was getting hard to speak and maintain focus. I was no longer urging an orgasm on; I was trying to hold it back. “You’re gorgeous. I mean, I always knew you were pretty, but with that body, wow.” I smiled weakly. “If you weren’t my sister I’d…”
I’d trailed off, so she prompted. “What?”
“Anything you’d let me,” I said. Unfortunately that was the way it always was with girls. Sexually speaking, a guy would be willing to do anything a girl would let him. Didn’t my sister know that? “Fuck, I’d eat you out for an hour, even if all I got out of it was a close up look.”
Her legs moved closer together, squeezing slightly. “Ha,” she said. “As if.” Her fingers quickened. I guess she was starting to get into it. Maybe I’d even see her cum.
That thought pushed me over the edge. My dick felt like it suddenly stiffened one last bit, even thickened, and no longer did it depend on my motion to give it pleasure, it felt incredible with no motion at all. Pressure rose up from the bottom of my shaft. My sister said something, just the word, “So…”, but I couldn’t pay her any attention. Before my mind blacked out entirely for its moment of bliss, I reached over to hurriedly grab some tissues, put them in position.
I didn’t moan or grunt, just shook a little as the first jet burst up and out of me, landing in the Kleenex while I was overcome with a more intense orgasm than I’d ever felt before. A second and third jet followed, not quite as pleasurable, but still better than the average first cum. After that, there would be a few more waves as the rest of my cum made its way out over the next thirty seconds or so. There seemed to be a lot of it this time, but then I’d been saving up.
“I guess you’re done,” Krista said. It was funny, she sounded almost disappointed.
“Yeah,” I said. Once again uncertain and awkward, I began said wiping out even the excess dew from the head of my penis, just for something to do. “Thanks.”
“So I should go?”
“Probably,” I said, though I wanted to watch her cum too. I hoped she’d offer that, but she didn’t. She took her hand off her pussy and stood up, then got her clothes. She put her shirt on first, then panties, and finally her jeans. Then, without looking back, she left the room. A few seconds later, I heard the door to her room close. I came out of my room a few minutes later, dressed, to go to the bathroom and flush my tissues down the toilet, stopped briefly at her door, but moved on.
I’d wanted to talk to her about what we’d just done, but now that I was no longer outrageously horny, it just didn’t seem conceivable to knock, go inside, and bring up some kind of sexual conversation with my own sister. If we’d still had our cell phones I might have managed to text her to get a conversation started without the awkwardness, but while we were disconnected I didn’t know how to bridge the gap. So I just let it lie, hoping she’d just come to the obvious conclusion that this was a one-time thing and we wouldn’t repeat it. We probably wouldn’t even speak of it. That was okay.
There was some dark part of me that wanted to repeat it, wanted to go even farther, but I was certain that would be impossible. So just burying the event, denying it had ever happened became the next best choice.
Pretty soon Mom and Dad came home, and started making dinner. Once again we were pressed to ‘connect’ by telling stories about our day. Well, one big thing had happened to me today, but there was no way I was talking about it, and luckily neither was Krista. We did exchange one brief look and awkward smile when Mom first asked, but then Krista launched into a story involving one of her friends.
I thought about masturbating that night in bed. Krista already knew I did it and had seen me do it… but I suppose I still had the worry that my parents could hear, so I held off and just drifted off with an erection, remembering the sight of my sister’s pussy.
***
again this is a work of fiction.
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