From an446077@anon.penet.fi Wed Nov 29 13:28:08 1995
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories
Subject: Sisterly Advice by DJ810 (mf, teen, mostly story)
From: an446077@anon.penet.fi (DJ810)
Date: Wed, 29 Nov 1995 18:28:08 UTC




NOTICE!

Please do not read the following story unless you are at least
eighteen years old, and enjoy reading stories with explicit
sexual content.

This is a work of fiction, and any resemblance to any person,
living or dead, is purely coincidental. Actual places and
locations are sometimes mentioned solely for the purpose of
creating a realistic background for the story.

Copyright 1995 by the author, DJ810 (an446077@anon.penet.fi). All
rights reserved. Any reproduction of this work outside the
confines of the usenet news group, alt.sex.stories, without the
explicit permission of the author is prohibited. However,
archiving on E-mail request-type servers is permitted provided
the author is informed in advance of the address and request
procedures.

The author may be reached at the anonymous address given above
and in the header of this post.




          Sisterly Advice  by  DJ810  

     His closed eyes shut even tighter, his body went rigid and
arched, his breathing stopped as the first spurt of his come
landed on his chest, the second just above his navel, and the
third and last simply slid out and down his cock onto his thumb.
For a moment he stayed thus, motionless, but then, with a sudden
gulp of air, his body relaxed onto his bed.
     He heard a noise, or thought he did, and his eyes shot open.
Nothing! Except "Why is my door open?" he thought. And then he
remembered that his mother had left it open after she had woke
him earlier, to remind him to cut the lawn, and to tell him she
was leaving for her Gardening Club meeting. "And Dad's probably
golfing," he thought and relaxed again, pulling the sheet over
his nude body. He thought of the lawn, and of Karen, and then
drifted off to sleep. He loved Saturdays.
     Another noise, a crash really, and a shout, and he was
instantly awake and out of bed on an initial rush of adrenaline,
and then he froze, crouched like a runner, his arm extended, his
hand on the bed for balance. And then the source of the commotion
penetrated his brain, and he relaxed with a sigh, slumping onto
the edge of the bed, his face covered with beads of perspiration.
His sister Cathy must have dropped a pot or pan in the kitchen.
He still hadn't adjusted to having her home again, it had only
been two days, and then he thought that by the time he had
adjusted, it would probably be time for her to return to school.

     She glanced up and smiled as Joey sauntered into the kitchen
and draped himself across a kitchen chair.
     "Good morning," she said softly, and asked, "Would you like
some breakfast?"
     "I usually have cereal," he answered, looking up at his
sister. He was amazed again at how much prettier she had gotten
during the past year, but realized that it was more likely his
changing perceptions. She had bigger breasts than Karen, he
noticed while wondering how big Karen's would get. For a moment
he watched her bare legs, and then wondered if she was wearing
anything beneath her robe. The thought made his penis begin to
harden.
     "I was thinking of making pancakes. If you'd like a change,
I'll make some for you," she said, looking over her shoulder at
her brother while thinking that he had become a young man during
the past year.
     "Oh great!" he replied and grinned at her.
     "What do you drink?" she asked as she began to triple the
proportions in her mixing bowl.
     "Milk," he replied. "I'll get it. What do you want?"
     "Coffee, but I already have a mug. Thanks. You could get the
syrup though," she answered.
     She gave the first stack of pancakes to him, and asked, "So
what's Karen like?"
     The question surprised him and he flushed crimson. His face
was hot as he stared at his sister, his mouth open. But finally
he composed himself, wiped his forehead, and asked, "How do you
know about Karen?"
     Cathy laughed and stepped to Joey's chair. She bent, laying
her head next to his and slipped an arm around his shoulders,
hugging him. "Because you're on the phone with her all the time,"
she answered and went back to her griddle.
     Joey felt relieved and answered, "She's nice."
     "Nice?" Cathy replied in a tone he recognized. The same tone
his mother used when he was evasive in his answers. She sat down
at the table and picked up the syrup bottle. Upending it, she
squirted a crisscross pattern of syrup on her pancakes. She set
the bottle back on the table, glanced at Joey and smiled.
     He knew a question was coming, but about what he didn't
know. Or when it would come. She took a lot more time than mom,
and he began to feel nervous with the anticipation of the
question. His face felt hot. She bent slightly and took a bite of
pancake. Joey stared and his penis throbbed when he saw the top
of one of her breasts, and realized that she must be nude beneath
her robe. He blushed but kept staring; he desperately wanted to
see more, and his penis hardened further.
     "Does she help you?" Cathy finally asked, a mischievous
smile upon her face. She stared at her brother and saw his
confused expression, and waited.
     "Help me? Help me do what?" he finally asked, totally
confused by Cathy's question.
     "Does she touch you like you were touching yourself this
morning?" she asked softly, her eyes gleaming.
     Joey flushed beet red and his eyes fixed on his faintly
smiling sister while his mouth opened and closed several times
without uttering a silent sound. Finally he barely managed to
croak, "You didn't see that!"
     "Oh but I did Joey, I did. I even liked it," she finished
softly, a gentle expression on her face. She let her fingertips
rest softly on his wrist.
     "Don't tell mom," Joey pleaded with genuine panic in his
voice and expression.
     "Does she touch you?" she asked again, as softly and gently
as she could. Her fingers on his wrist curled just slightly, just
enough so that he could feel her nails barely scraping his wrist.
     "No," he stammered softly, flushed, perspiration beading on
his forehead, while he wished that she did touch him. He wished
it every time he touched himself, every time they kissed, often
when they were just holding hands, or sitting close and watching
TV together.
     "Why not?" Cathy asked softly, but the question interrupted
and startled him nevertheless. Joey stared at his sister, his
expression blank. He turned her question every way in his mind,
but couldn't fathom the meaning of it; but she continued to sit,
faintly smiling at him, waiting patiently for an answer. At least
he thought she was waiting for him to answer.
     "I don't know why not," he finally answered, and felt that
he was back at school, when his teacher had asked him, "And Joey,
what is a lyric poem?"
     "Do you touch her?" Cathy asked, persisting in her
questioning.
     "No," he answered quickly. A tone of frustration in his
voice as the failure of another of his dreams was brought to
light. He pushed back from the table, and said, to no one in
particular, "I've got to mow the grass."
     Cathy watched him leave, cross the deck, and disappear. She
thought that if Karen were as shy and unaggressive as her brother
was, they'd both still be innocents four years from now when they
graduated high school. She wondered what Karen was like, her mom
had said that she was a very considerate, bright, pretty, and
mature young lady. Coming from her mom, that was a considerable
recommendation.
     After Cathy loaded and started the dishwasher, she went
upstairs and exchanged her robe for a pair of old jeans and a
sweatshirt. Back in the kitchen, she fixed herself another cup of
coffee and carried it, and the morning paper, out onto the deck.
     Joey was almost half done mowing the back yard when Cathy
caught a movement out of the corner of her eye. She turned to see
a beautiful young girl. Taller than herself, slender with a body
that was already nicely curved, short, dark blonde hair. She
stood, hands on her hips, watching Joey.
     "Hi," Cathy called to her. "You must be Karen."
     The young girl jumped, startled, and turned towards Cathy
with her hand on her mouth.
     "Oh! I didn't see you there. You scared me. Sorry. Yes, I'm
Karen. And you must be Cathy," she said as she came up onto the
deck.
     "I am," Cathy replied. "Have a seat. I'm just sitting and
enjoying watching Joey work."
     Karen glanced at Cathy and slowly smiled, and said, "I too
enjoy watching him."
     Cathy stared at her for a moment, and then said, "You're a
very restrained young lady."
     Karen giggled and turned her gaze towards Joey.
     "Would you like something to drink?" Cathy asked her.
     "Oh no," she replied quickly, turning back to Cathy. "I
don't want to bother you."
     "It's no bother," Cathy replied while getting up. "I have to
go for more coffee anyway."
     "Iced tea?" Karen replied with a slight tilt of her head.
"Can I help?"
     "No, I can get it. You might want to see if Joey would like
something."
     "Oh, he'll want tea too," she replied, "and you'll have too
much to carry. I'll help," and she got up.
     Cathy watched as Karen carried a glass of iced tea out to
Joey. He stopped, killed the mower, and smiled when he noticed
her coming across the lawn. They kissed, just a peck, and she
offered him the tea. While he drank it, she laid her hand on his
upper arm and stroked it. He handed the glass back to her and
they talked for a moment. Then they kissed again. More than a
peck, but not passionate either. Enough that he's probably hard,
Cathy thought. Karen's hand slid down Joey's arm until they were
holding hands, and then she started back towards the house. Joey
watched her for a moment, and then bent to restart the mower.
     Cathy and Karen watched Joey work on the yard and chatted,
and when he finished the back yard, they moved to the front steps
so Karen could continue watching him while they continued their
conversation.

     Joey and Karen went to the movies later that Saturday
afternoon, and after, they walked back, holding hands, to her
house. He was invited to have dinner with her family- they were
going to order pizza; and after dinner her parents went to relax
and read on the patio while Joey helped Karen clean up the
kitchen and do the dishes. Joey wanted her, and had wanted her,
so badly he frequently could think of nothing else. Today was
especially bad for him. Whenever they were alone, she was
touching his arm, or giving him a little kiss. And Cathy! He
couldn't forget Cathy's question, and it made not having Karen
especially painful.
     "What are you thinking about?" Karen asked him, and the
question brought him back from his reverie and softened his
erection.
     He almost blurted out how much he desired her, how much he
lusted after her, how she tormented his thoughts, how much he
wanted to see her breast, and suck it, and touch her, and shove
his hard cock into her, and into her hand, but instead, he
shrugged his shoulders, and replied with difficulty, "Nothing."
     "I think you were daydreaming about something," she replied
with quiet emphasis, touching his arm, but then asked, "You want
to watch TV?"

     "Your father and I are going to the Johnson's for brunch
after church," Cathy's mother informed her, and Joey, as they
were all getting ready for church. "You're welcome to join us.
Their son is home from Cornell for the summer. He's a very nice
young man. Handsome, and he's starting law school next year."
     "What's his name?" Cathy asked.
     "Greg," Mrs. Austin answered. "So you'll join us?" she asked
again and waited for an answer with her head tilted and her
eyebrows arched, hoping her daughter would accept the invitation.
     "Thanks mom, but not today. I think I'll walk home after
service," she answered while thinking that after the past year at
school, the last thing she needed was another male friend, lover,
relationship, or whatever her mother thought she might be
instigating.
     Her mother studied her for a moment, but said nothing
further. Finally, turning to Joey, she continued, "Joey. You'll
come?"
     "Na," he replied. "I'll walk home with Cath."
     "And what will you do for lunch?" their mother asked Joey.
     "I'll fix something for us," Cathy replied

     They walked the first quarter-mile in silence, and then Joey
asked, "Cath?"
     She glanced up at her brother, absorbed his expression,
slipped her arm through his, and replied, "What Joey?"
     "How do I ask her?" he said, a plaintive plea in the tone of
his voice.
     They walked another block in silence, they Cathy replied, "I
don't know Joey. There's a million ways. Maybe when you're with
her and you're excited, you should just touch her. Gently."
     "I couldn't," Joey instantly responded, his voice raspy. "Is
that terrible?"
     "No Joey. It's not terrible. Not at all. Maybe it's even one
of your charms for her. People are so strange," she finished
softly, almost as if speaking to herself. They walked another
half-block in silence and then Cathy asked a question that she
felt confident she knew the answer to, "Is she your friend?"
     "Yeah," he replied and smiled down at Cathy.
     "Maybe you should just talk to her Joey. Tell her what
you're feeling."
     "But what should I say?" he asked, knowing that he had no
words to tell her what his mind and body felt. What he wanted,
and wanted for them, and wanted for her to want.
     "I don't know Joey," she said with a hint of frustration and
sadness in her voice. "I don't know. Not for you. Not even for
me."
     They were almost home, when Cathy added, "She likes you
Joey. I think she'd like it if you'd talk to her. Even if you
don't know what to say. Just stumble along. I don't think she'd
mind. Talk to her like you talk to me. Just that little bit. It
would be a start. You won't have to do it all. Maybe if you can
tell her a single feeling, she'll feel free to tell you one. But
Joey, there's no wonderful place you need to get to. It's
becoming friends that matters."
     They were standing on their small front porch, and Cathy was
trying to unlock the door with tears in her eyes.
     "Are you okay?" Joey asked, touching her arm, bending to
look closely into her face.
     "Yes Joey, I'm fine," she replied as the front door swung
open and she straightened, smiling up at Joey, her eyes still
moist. "Does what I just said make any sense to you?"
     Joey stared at her for a moment, and then replied, "I don't
know. Maybe. I guess so. I guess it makes sense."

     The following week passed quickly for Cathy and slowly for
Joey.
     She started a summer job and discovered that Allan, who last
summer had swept her off her feet, was no longer capable of even
changing her pulse rate. And one evening over coffee she
discovered that Carlyn, whom she used to consider as barely a
friend and rather strange, now seemed funny, wise, and brilliant.
     Joey on the other hand struggled the entire week trying to
control his emotions and hunger for Karen while also attempting
to communicate those feelings and desires to her. But the few
embarrassed and tangled phrases that he actually articulated to
her were answered with confused glances and unsteady smiles.

     It was another beautiful Saturday morning and Cathy sat at
the small desk in her bedroom writing in her diary.
     "Are you going to be home this evening?" her mother asked,
interrupting her, from the doorway of her bedroom.
     "Until midnight or so," Cathy answered, turning to look at
her mom. "Why?"
     "You're going out at midnight?" her mother asked in a
pitched voice.
     Cathy chuckled softly at the tone of her voice, but
explained, "Carlyn doesn't get off work until eleven-thirty. We
thought we'd go out for a cappuccino. Okay?" She smiled at her
mom, knowing that she would approve of the planned activity.
     "Well that will be nice," she replied. "But you'll be home
till then?"
     "I plan to be," Cathy answered. "Why?"
     "Well the kids just left for the zoo, but after, your
gallant young brother wants to come back and grill hamburgers for
the two of them, and then watch a video."
     "Really!" Cathy exclaimed with surprise. Then, smiling at
her mother, she said with a teasing voice, "She must me something
special. I've never had a date cook for me." She laughed softly,
but felt proud of her little brother.
     Her mother smiled, and replied, "He is a remarkable young
man," and then seemed to drift into a reverie.
     "You still haven't told me why you wanted to know if I was
going to be here this evening?" Cathy asked again, interrupting
her mother's daydream.
     "Oh," she said, surprised to hear her daughter's voice,
"your father and I had plans to go out to dinner and then a
concert, and -. Well, I didn't want them here alone. But we'll be
home long before midnight. You'll keep an eye on them?"
     "It'll be my pleasure," she replied with a smile, and added,
"Do I get a hamburger out of the deal?"
     Her mother smiled in return, and replied, "You'll have to
negotiate that with your brother." She chuckled softly.
     "I think I can manage," Cathy replied with an amused but
slightly devious look.
     Her mother laughed and said, "Try not to be too intrusive.
But thanks."
     Cathy smiled again, and said, "You're welcome. You and dad
have a good time."
     "I think we will, thank you," she answered with a smile, and
then turned and walked away. Cathy turned back to her desk,
reorganized her thoughts, and continued writing.

     Cathy sat on the deck and watched Joey grill hamburgers.
Karen sat with her, chatting, except when Joey asked her to run
for something. Or to take care of some detail that he decided or
remembered needed attention and was unable to do himself.
     After dinner, Cathy surprised them with strawberry short
cake, and then Karen insisted that she and Joey would clean and
tidy everything. While Karen was scurrying about the kitchen
putting away dishes, she invited Cathy, despite a stern and
discouraging look from Joey, to watch a movie with them. Cathy
glanced at Joey and smiled, as much to herself as to Karen and
Joey. She thanked Karen, but declined the invitation, saying that
there was a book that she wanted to finish. Then, excusing
herself, she left them in the kitchen, went upstairs, spread out
on her bed, stared out the window for several minutes, and then
opened her book.

     Joey sprawled on the couch, one leg thrust out, the other
bent with his ankle on his knee. One arm lay along the back of
the couch while the other encircled Karen, holding her against
him. She sat with her legs tucked under her, curled up against
his side, her head on his shoulder, gently held there by his arm.
They kissed and touched and watched each other as much as they
watched the movie. She was content, and patient while he was
frustrated, and unsure. When he felt her breath on his neck, it
made his cock harden. He wanted her, wanted to crush her to
himself. And he wanted, needed, to touch her, and have her touch
him.
     The back of her right hand rested against his waist, the
palm of her left rested lightly on his stomach. He closed his
eyes and failed in his attempt to move her hand two inches with
only his thoughts. His arm moved and tightened about her, his
fingertip inadvertently pressed into the side of her breast; and
despite the layers of fabric between them, she felt his touch,
welcomed it, and she twisted slightly so next time her breast
would be almost unnoticeably more accessible.
     With a huge gulp of air, he shifted, moving his arm from the
back of the couch, letting his hand rest very lightly on hers,
trapping it between his hand and stomach.
     She smiled and glanced up at him, and lightly kissed his
jaw. Turning her glance to their hands, she moved her thumb,
freeing it, using it to slowly rub the side of his hand.
     He pulled her closer with his arm, held her tight while his
hand pressed her hand tighter against his stomach. Tighter and
down a fraction of an inch. He again closed his eyes and took
another deep breath while hoping that she didn't notice the
growing and moving bulge in his pants.
     When his eyes opened, she was watching him, her lips
slightly parted. He could feel her breath on his chin. They
kissed, and it started as playfully, as softly, as a hundred
other of their kisses had, but the tempo was different in a way
that he didn't comprehend, and his mind stopped thinking. He just
wanted to hold her and he closed both his arms around her,
pulling her, twisting her body to fit against his. And she
responded, her hand pressed his stomach, her tongue licked pass
his lips and stroked his tongue.
     He closed his lips around her tongue and sucked. Then he
felt her touch.
     "Oh God!" he wailed. "Oh God!"
     In an instant, she was kneeling next to him, an arm around
his shoulders, her other hand almost floating over the tight
material holding his hard cock, her lips covering the side of his
face, his neck, with small kisses. She kissed his ear, licked it,
and slipped her hand up, pressing her palm into his hard stomach,
her fingertips glided under his jeans, under the elastic band of
his shorts, and she whispered, her lips still against his ear,
"Oh Joey, I wanta see, I want to, oh Joey, Joey," and her lips
caressed the side of his face in a hundred kisses. She found his
eyes and licked them, but he remained motionless. She kissed him
and he couldn't breath, but he moved. He broke the kiss and with
a gulp of air, crushed her to him.
     "Please Joey, please," she pleaded. "I wanta see you. I
wanta see you. Help me, help me, please," and with a single hand,
he tore his jeans open, and desperately struggled to lower his
jeans and shorts with a single hand. Then Karen was helping and
suddenly he wore nothing but his shirt, and she was kneeling next
to him with both her arms around his neck, trying to kiss him
sideways as she stared at his twitching, erect cock. "Oh Joey, I
love, I love you, oh Joey, oh Joey, you're so beautiful."
     "Touch me," he said in a voice so raspy, so guttural, that
his tone, his movements, told her more than his words.
     "Yes," she whispered as, trancelike, she continued staring
at his erection. "Yes," and she reached out slowly, and gently
placed the tip of her index finger on the underside of his cock,
where the swollen head joined the shaft.
     His body froze except for his throbbing cock. His head fell
back and a dreadful, wailing moan escaped him. Karen stared at
him, eyes wide, almost fearful, but she keep her fingertip
pressed motionless against his cock.
     "Hold me," he groaned, and tensed his buttocks, trying to
thrust his cock against her fingertip. Slowly, she slid her
fingertip down the fleshy underside of his cock, and then
carefully, very gently, she closed her hand softly around his
cock and saw that the end of it was glistening with moisture.
     His muscles ached from the tenseness throughout his rigid
body. He tried through tenseness and thought to thrust into her
hand, but to no effect; his body wouldn't move, and he cried and
moaned in frustration, desperate for relief.
     "Harder," he cried, and tried to thrust into her hand. She
tightened her grip, but still held him gently, afraid of hurting
him. "Harder," he moaned again.
     "Help me Joey," she softly pleaded, hearing his pain. "Help
me, help me Joey, please." Suddenly his hand closed around hers,
squeezing her hand so tightly she cried out in pain. He began
moving their entwined hands up and down his cock.
     "I'm gonna come," he hoarsely whispered; and Karen, wide
eyed, suddenly covered the tip of his cock with her other hand
and felt his hot, slippery come in her hand, and then she opened
her hand and stared as his cock throbbed and filled her cupped
hand with a puddle of hot, sticky come. She stared at his cock,
at her palm, until his hand pressing over hers on his cock
relaxed, and then she looked at him, searching his face, trying
to discover if he was pleased.
     He looked at her blankly, then reached for her and tried to
kiss her, but his lips were trembling so much that he couldn't.
Instead, he buried his face in her neck and cried and held her.
She let herself be held, and even slipped her now free hand up to
touch his check while she tried to keep her other hand level and
cupped in order to save what he had given her.
     For a long time, he just held her. Finally his breathing
slowed and he sighed and slumped down into the couch. She closed
her hand into a fist and hoped that it wouldn't leak, and
snuggled against him.
     "Was it good?" she whispered.
     "Oh God yes!" he sobbed and tightened his arms around her.

                             The End  

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