Eat Sleep Masturbate Ch. 04 by Sir_Concupine

This is a work of fiction. This is the 4th chapter of what I’ve mapped in my mind as a multi-part story. I think it stands on its own, but reading the prior “Eat, Sleep, Masturbate” entries will provide some context. I write for my own enjoyment, but I am grateful you’ve stopped by and perhaps chosen to spend some time with my writing.

And the usual disclaimer: All characters are 19 years of age or older. And no animals were harmed in the creation of this story.

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The grumble roused me. I stirred groggily. I’d been down here long enough to recognize the sound and the heavy humidity’s scent: an afternoon thunderstorm was approaching. Emerging slowly from my afternoon nap on the patio, I ran my hand absentmindedly but soothingly across my chest. Despite my lassitude beneath the tropical swelter’s blanket, I was acutely aware of my bloated hard cock, standing erect from groin. Replaying the morning’s events of splashing my sister’s abdomen with my cum only made my shaft swell thicker. My cock drooled precum that slid along the left side of my shaft. The sky gnarled louder; sporadic thick drops began splatting on the deck. Though sheltered in the corner of the covered patio, I headed inside.

Diana was behind the kitchen island. Her elbows resting on the countertop, she ate a mango she had peeled and sliced; her breasts swayed subtly but captivatingly. A naked woman in my house remained novel and potent; my cock quivered.

“Hey sleepyhead!” She called. “Have a good nap?”

“Yeah, I was out.”

“Looks like someone was having a yummy dream,” she poked, motioning her gaze to my vanguard erection.

“Ha! But, no. No dream,” I debunked. “Just woke up this way.”

“Oh, boo,” Diana pouted. “I was hoping you were going to regale me with lurid tales of loose women with tight pussies.”

I choked on the bite of mango I just took. “What?!” I rasped, coughing and surely red from shock.

“Isn’t that what most young men dream about?” She teased coyly, her eyes gleaming playfully.

“Yes, hmgh hmgh,” I croaked, clearing my throat. “Yeah, I suppose it is.”

“So what was the last sex dream you had?” Diana pursued, punctuated by a small bite of the mellow fruit.

“Hmm…” I leaned against the counter as I pondered. “I do recall having an amazing sex dream about a girl from my junior year. She was super pretty–golden brown sugar skin, icy blue eyes. She was a friend of mine. Anyway, I don’t recall much about the dream itself–all I remember is that, at the end, she took her shirt off, exposing her breasts. I had the most massive wet dream.” I drifted off, recalling.

“Did you ever go out with her?”

“No, she was a friend–and a friend’s sister, so it seemed weird,” I said, wistful. “But she was easy to talk to and we got along well, so we were just friends.”

“Aww.” Diana consoled. “And you’re not seeing anyone now?”

“Nope,” I resigned.

“No wonder you jack off 2-3 times a day!”

“Ah, geez, Sis. You make me sound pathetic,” I moaned.

“No no no no. I don’t mean it that way,” she consoled, putting her right hand over her heart; the bend of her elbow cradled her right breast. My gaze was captured. “I come from a place of complete understanding,” she continued. “I didn’t have my first boyfriend until senior year of college. So I totally get all those pent up feelings.”

Soothed, I relaxed against the counter. “Yeah, Dad mentioned something about that,” I remarked. Thunder rumbled.

“Oh? And what did Daddy say?” She asked with a raised, piqued eyebrow.

“Dad was making the point that you at 19 wasn’t much different from me at 19,” I answered, reaching for more mango. “He said something to the effect of, your hand was rarely away from your vulva when you were around the apartment,” I added cockily as I slid the slippery fruit slice into my mouth. My cock surged as I talked to my sister about her pussy.

“He said that?”

“Yup.”

“He’s probably not wrong,” she acquiesced. “I was pretty pent up most of the time, especially at home, where I could go nude–since we were all nude. So different from the world outside, which bottled up and reserved and prim.”

“What was that like–growing up nude at home?” I inquired.

“Oh, it was so nice, sweetie! It was so freeing. It really brought us closer as a family. Mom and Daddy worked hard to make home a place that was free of judgment and shame. It’s impossible to hide when you’ve got nothing to hide behind!” She punctuated stretching her right arm playfully toward the ceiling, emphasizing her nakedness.

We both laughed, but I guess my glance tripped to gawk as I looked at her prominent breasts.

“I guess you like ’em,” she indicted, shaking her breasts.

“Oh, shit. You busted me.” I blushed, exposed. But I couldn’t refute: her arms stretched wide jutted her breasts forward, causing them shimmy. Her areolae and nipples, smooth and relaxed in the hot soggy still of the afternoon, were nonetheless a delicious shade of deep cinnamon capping her creme breasts. I was overpowered; her tits mesmerized me. My cock seemed to swell thicker and more desperate with each look my eyes gulped in. “But…yeah…sorry.”

“Oh, stop. I’m just teasing you, kiddo. I just want to make sure that I still got it.”

“Meaning?”

“Meaning, I know we’re family, but I admit my ego would be gravely bruised if you didn’t find staring at my boobs arousing,” she admitted.

“Ah! Then, they’re working as planned,” I affirmed.

“Oh, yay.” My sister shined.

My aching hard cock quivered when she said that. A blob of precum bubbled out, dripping onto my thigh; it cooled on my skin. I daubed it with my fingertip and applied to the underside of my cock, running my finger along the channel of my urethra to extract more and slather it on my turgid shaft. My motions caught my sister’s attention.

“Are you jacking off right now?” Diana asked wide eyed.

“Huh? Oh. No. I dribbled some precum on my leg, so I was just wiping it off.”

“Uh huh,” she harassed, unconvinced.

“No, really! Honest,” I protested. For whatever reason, I brought my hand up and showed her my palm, then wiped the remnant sex salve on my right butt cheek.

“Well, then, boo again,” she sulked.

“Why? You want me to be jerking off right now?”

“Not exactly. But if you happened to be, I’d totally join you. I’d love to have a rub.”

The crash of thunder was the prefect sound effect for the feeling of adrenaline coursing icily through me. A flat “Oh” was all I could muster.

A humidity thick silence hung in the room. “You know, I think I’m going to have a smoke,” my sister declared. “Would you like to come with me?”

“Sure. I’ll join you… but I don’t smoke,” I clarified.

“Oh, sweetie,” Diana sighed with disappointment. “What am I going to do with you?” She shook her head in disappointment, her arms akimbo. Her breasts shimmied.

I stared blankly.

“I’m asking if you’d like to _cum_ with me.” She looked at me as if I was being thick, as she shook her loosely curled right fist in the universal jerk-off motion. Her pendulating breasts encouraged me. “I’m going to have a cig and a rub. I thought you might like to join me.”