Author: Ampven
Title: The Archers sisters
Keywords: ff, ped, mast

Amy was excited by the idea of making her little sister Megan a slut.

The daring idea grew into her mind talking with her friend Emily
Fairchild. A day they were going back home from school, chatting about
boys, when Emily said:

"I'd give anything to have an elder sister who teaches me all about
men."

"I think today we proved to know enough!" replied Amy. The girls
giggled. They both were thinking about what they did in the school's
bathroom that morning: Paul Hunt would have remembered that day very
well for the rest of his life.

"But Paul's just a boy. I was talking of grown up men when we were
younger."

"How much younger?" asked a puzzled Amy.

"Eleven, maybe twelve or thirteen, it depends. When you just start to
itch down there, if you get what I mean."

Amy remembered well the sensations which began to irradiate through
her body from her groins when she was ten years old or so. She
discovered that rubbing herself was the only way to feel better.
Really, really better, so that she did it every time he could, also
when there wasn't an actual urge. She did it also when she was bored.

At night, when she couldn't sleep, she kept the pillow between her
thighs, contracting and relaxing the muscles, or sliding back and
forth on it while pushing it against the pussy to increment the
friction.

When she was eleven, she understood she could do better by touching
herself in this or that way rather than `just rubbing' her
panties-covered cunt against various things. She explored more
attentively her pussy and understood a couple of interesting things
about that sort of *button*.

She was not twelve years old yet when she sticked the wooden broom
handle inside her. She did this experiment a month after her
menarche. Her mom explained her what it was and also something about
sex. Amy was especially fascinated by the fact that men have to
deposit their seeds, one of which will become a child, into the vagina
and to do so they must enter *there* to reach the *right place*.

That's the reason why when she saw the rounded tip of the broom handle
she had the idea to see what it feels like to have something
inside. She pushed slowly, until she hit something and couldn't push
further. She felt like she needed to, though. She was rubbing her
*button* (she later learnt it was called clitoris and she was actually
working around its hood) which was driving her crazy. She felt
twitching inside and desperately needed more of the handle to grasp.

She remembered as a hazy dream, she was on the floor, her legs moving
almost out of control when they clasped the leg of the table and
pulled, dragging her on the floor. The broom hit the wall and stood
fixed as a spear while her legs continued pulling, thrusting the tip
of the handle harder against the obstacle. Then something broke. She
felt a keen pain, her feet found the leg of the table and her legs
elongated hard as to jump away from a danger.

Nonetheless she kept rubbing and patting her clitoris with one hand,
while with the other, because the broom wasn't fixed against the wall
anymore, she controlled the depth of penetration of the handle, moving
it back and forth. Her ecstasy was growing and she couldn't help
moaning louder and louder. She propped the feet on the floor and
instinctively raised and lowered the hips to follow the movements of
her hand holding the handle.

She knew month later that what she had was called orgasm. She arched
her back and kept the handle inside, her cunt was twitching around it,
she could feel it and it was wonderful. Then she relaxed letting her
hips fall on the floor. She was able to recover herself only several
seconds later. She *unsheathed* the handle and took a look around
her. There was a mess on the floor. Blood. She thought she had her
period, but it wasn't so. She cleaned everything before her parents
came back and that night she fell asleep with a bright smile on her
fulfilled face.

"Amy?" Emily's voice brought her back into the present. "Are you
listening?"

"Sure, I was only remembering my first orgasm."

"Dirty brat. You are never satiated, aren't you?"

They giggled.

"Never" confirmed Amy. "And so do you, little slut!"

"Unfortunately my time as a slut began late" she said in a pensive
mood. "An elder sister could have taught me to enjoy sluttiness
early. I feel like I've lost a lot of time!"

Amy looked at her friend doubtfully. "I'm sure you did a lot of dirty
things since you were ten, and maybe before!"

"Like you."

"Exactly. So, what do you regret?"

"You were thinking about your first orgasm and you haven't listened!"
Emily faked rage making her voice hiss.

"You are right, I'm sorry, don't punish me!" said Amy laughing.

"Let me ask you a question, dear Amy Rose Archers." Emily used the
Understanding Queen Mode of Speech. It was an old play of theirs.
"When you had your first orgasm, was there a man humping you as you
wanted and deserved?"

"No, there weren't men around, my Queen, I swear!"

"My point."

They walked in silence for a bit. Amy was thinking about what her
friend had said.

"So," said Amy, "you regret your first orgasm was a lonely game."

"I started to fuck myself when I was nine. I wanted to be fucked since
I was eleven, but I didn't know how to be slut enough to gain
attention from men who can fuck me hard and well."

Amy boggled. "But higher grades boys surely noticed you."

"Lame idiots! I've done a lot of making out in corridors and
under-stairs, but they lacked the experience to make me feel
fulfilled!"

Emily examined Amy's face carefully. Then asked: "Are you saying to me
that you had a good fuck before you were fifteen?"

"No," replied Amy, "in fact I had my first fuck at fifteen. I wasn't
virgin already, but anyway it was the first time my slit embraced a
real meat-stick."

"Your slit embraced...?! How are you speaking, dirty subject!"

They laughed.

"OK," Emily continued, "I embraced my first dick when I was still
fourteen, and it was a lame boyish dick and a bad fuck I prefer to
forget."

"My first fuck was OK" said Amy. "Nothing special, but good as a
starter.  I was lucky because my hymen was already broken."

"And you pretended to have already fucked a lot of time" Emily said.
"I know. But now we're sixteen and we've fucked only... how many? My
score is twelve different dicks."

"Slut!" shouted Amy, delighted. Then, almost whispering: "I've fucked
only nine boyish cocks."

"See!" said Emily slapping her hands together. "Boyish cock! Wouldn't
it be terrific if we had fucked ten manly dicks when we was in need?
It would have been possible if we learned to be sluts at the right
age. We could obtain a lot of things."

Emily lighted a cigarette. "Our body must have been a weapon to tame
men, not stupid boys."

"Men don't give a damn for eleven years old ladies." Amy pointed at
the cigarette and then to the bus coming. "You've wasted a cigarette."

"I wouldn't bet on it, my darling." She threw the cigarette. "I
mean... I spotted men looking at me with lust when I was twelve. I had
already enough of the things man want."

"I know there are perverted men who like children."

"No, I'm not talking about those creepy sick idiots. Another question
before we catch the bus and change subject, dear Amy Rose
Archers. When you broke your hymen with... what it was?"

"A wooden broom handle."

"When you broke your hymen with that handle, did you feel like a child
or like a female ready to be fucked hard?"

----

Amy was on her bed, thinking about this slut thing. She looked towards
her sister's bed (they shared the same room since they had to move
from the old house). Megan was watching a film on a new tablet, a gift
by uncle Mark for her twelfth birthday, which was the week before.

Meg was even prettier and sexier than her at twelve. She looked
fourteen. Amy was sure she already had her things, but she had never
thought about her sexuality. Had Meg already tried to insert something
inside her, like Amy did?

They were sharing the room for eight months already, but Amy couldn't
remember of a night when she heard a gasp, a low moan, anything that
could be a clue that she was masturbating. That was strange. If Meg
hadn't any awareness of her sexuality, it would have been a lot harder
to make her a real slut.

Megan was lying on the bed, belly down, knees bent, her silky calves
pointing towards the ceiling. Her nightgown's hem was at less than half
thigh, legs wide apart. Suddenly Amy wanted to peep between her legs,
a quick peek to her underthings.

She changed direction so that her head was looking towards the
wardrobe and her feet towards the window, but it wasn't enough to peek
between Meg's legs.

Megan noticed Amy's fidget. "What are you doing, sis?"

"I want to see if I sleep better heading north."

"What?" asked Megan, taking the headphones off.

"I've said: maybe I sleep better if my head points northwards."

Megan raised an eyebrow. "You believe in these new-age bullshits?"

Amy laughed. "No, but now you will be punished for that bad word!"

Saying that, she jumped towards her younger sister, grabbed the hem of
her nightgown and pulled it upward, revealing Megan's buttocks, ready
to be slapped by Amy's hand.

Megan yelled "Leave me alone!" and started kicking the air with the
legs, hoping Amy would give up. And in fact Amy gave up, but not
because of Megan's kicking but because she was surprised by the fact
that Megan wasn't wearing underthings.

"You look so gorgeous" said Amy honestly, staring at her sister's
buttocks. She rested the hand that was ready to hit on the right
buttock.

Megan stopped fighting and looked at Amy with a big smile on her
face. "Thanks, sis."

"Why aren't you wearing anything?" asked Amy while her hand started to
feel Megan's right buttock. It was firm and soft in the same time. The
skin was incredibly silky and fresh.

"I'm wearing the nightgown" Megan answered, stating the obvious.

"I'm wearing it, too, but I've also underwears."

Then Megan asked a simple, unexpected question. "Why?"

"Well, because..."

Amy realised that she didn't know why she wore underthings, despite it
was summer. Maybe it had to do with hygiene, but she wasn't in her
period and anyway there would have been the cotton of the nightgown
between her private parts and every surface she decided to sit on. So
she wasn't able to give a logical answer to herself.

"Usually," Megan said, interrupting Amy's thoughts, "I wish to go
around naked. But I must wear something when I'm not alone."

Amy was still feeling her sister's buttock, once the right, once the
left one. Megan spread the legs apart another bit, shamelessly and
like if she was inviting Amy to explore her pussy. Amy's throat was
dry and she acted as if she was hypnotised.

She noticed her little sister had spread her legs and this sent
shivers to her spine. Her sister was a lesbian, her sister was a
lesbian... But then, she must have be a lesbian too, because she was
enjoying touching her female body.

She had to know, so she asked: "Are you a lesbian?"

"Hell no!" Megan replied, almost offended. "But this doesn't mean I
don't like to be touched."

Megan's voice started to be lower and dreamy. Both Amy's hands were
touching her buttocks, making circles around the center, the hot
spot. Amy reclined her head to have a better view and she saw a
glistening moisture. Amy smiled: her little sister had the numbers to
become a good slut.

This was also the right moment to know what the twelve years old Megan
had already done with his body.

"You like also when you touch yourself?"

"Of course" Megan answered, always in this dreamy voice.

So Megan knew about masturbation, Amy thought. Then she asked: "I've
never heard you. Do you masturbate only when you are alone, or in
other places?"

Megan chuckled. "I masturbate every time I need it, everywhere, I
don't care. Maybe ten times a day."

"What?" cried the very surprised Amy. "How it is possible nobody
noticed?"

"I've my tricks and maybe someone noticed, but I don't care."

"Who noticed?" Amy asked curiously.

"Daddy." Megan's voice sounded as if she was falling asleep.

Lest she really did, Amy slapped hard her buttock.

"Hey!" she cried. "It hurts!"

"Don't fall asleep!" commanded Amy.

"I wasn't. It's just that I'm fucking enjoying your massage!"

"Well, good for you, you little dirty---"

"Slut! I like to be a slut."

That really surprised Amy. "So, you think to be a real slut?"

Instead of answering, Megan slipped her hand under her stomach to
reach her pussy and then tucked two fingers inside it. Amy saw them
sliding inside till the point where they were attached to the
hand. They were almost completely buried into her snatch.

"How it happened that daddy saw you masturbating?" asked Amy.

"He didn't see me..."

"Continue, tell me everything!"

"O, sister, if only I knew you weren't prude as I thought!"

Megan's fingers was moving slightly in and out. It seems like she
isn't a virgin anymore, thought Amy.

"Tell me, how it happened---"

"I came when I was straddling him."

Amy felt a sort of dizziness. Her little sister had just told her that
she masturbated straddling their dad.

"What do you mean?" Amy asked with a trembling voice. She tried to
imagine the scene and it worked as a sort of igniter: she felt that
her cunt started moistening. She needed to touch herself too, so she
continued to massage her sister's buttocks with only one hand. With
the other she imitated Megan (except that she had to slip the hand
under the elastic band of her underwears): she inserted two fingers
inside. They entered without effort. She was draining.

"I don't remember why I was crying and mom was very busy, so she sent
me to daddy's studio to be checked. Daddy was sitting on his chair and
without saying a word I straddled him and he hugged me and whispered
that it was nothing. He caressed my hairs and my back trying to calm
me down."

"And..." Amy goaded to continue the tale.

"And I calmed down."

"And...? Come on!" Her excitement needed the tale to continue. Amy's
fingers needed a little bit of help by Amy's mind. She was imagining
herself straddling their dad instead of her sister.

"Don't be impatient!" yelled Megan, and Amy slapped her again
(*ouch!*). The buttock's skin hit by Amy became red, then the colour
faded out and it was again the colour of Megan's pearly silky skin.

"Then I put my arms around his neck and I said `I love you, daddy'
while I pulled my body up so that I feel his chest and my pussy
pushed---"

Amy interrupted her. She had to know: "Were you wearing your
underthings?"

"I had shorts on, but no underthings."

"So you don't use them even when you wear clothes..."

"If I can, I avoid them, I've already said it to you, haven't I?"

"OK" Amy felt so blind: she never noticed a lot of things! "Continue"
she commanded.

"My pussy is very sensitive. I get wet for the smallest rubbing. So I
had just pulled myself up, and there's this jut my pussy pushes
against..."

Maybe it was daddy's prick? She felt envious, then she realised she
was envious that her sister had that kind of attention from her dad
and she felt very filthy and this incremented her excitement.

Megan continued: "Maybe it was his belt. Anyway, it was on the right
spot so it turned me on. I had to do something, you know."

Amy knew.

"I used my playful, childish voice and said: daddy, let's play, you're
my horse and I'm riding! I can't help doing it: I started riding. At
first I tried to fake a ride, but then I stopped pretending to, and I
was just rubbing frantically against that jut. Up, down, forth and
back."

"The pelvic thrust can't go unnoticed..."


(To be continued...?)