Jean’s Wounded Warrior Project
Chapter 4 Robert Reveals Jean’s Secrets
I dedicate this story to all the brave men and women in uniform who have served this country.
This story takes place in the late 1960s.
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I was so excited when I called Robert the next day that I misdialed the first couple of attempts. I was relieved when he answered the phone after three rings.
“Hey, Robert, it’s me again. Do you have time to talk to your brother-in-law?”
“Steve, I’ve got all the time in the world. I spend hours staring at the ceiling when I’m not in therapy. How’s my sister doing? Oh my God, you don’t know how much everyone here misses her.”
“Jean’s back at Ithaca Hospital working with her elderly patients. She’s told me repeatedly that she misses her wounded warriors. I think she’d go back to California in a heartbeat.”
“Well, Steve, you’re the one who called. What did you want to talk about?”
Had Robert already forgotten what he told me yesterday?
“You told me how Jean went wild in her senior year of high school. You stopped after describing how your sister learned to give you lap dances.”
“Oh yeah. That was crazy enough, but things soon got wilder.”
Robert continued where he had left off.
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I had midterms just before Thanksgiving. They were a lot harder than anything I’d had in high school. I had never felt so relieved in my life when I finished the last exam on Friday. I invited my two closest college buddies, Joey and James, over to my house on Saturday night to celebrate by watching TV while eating pizza and drinking massive quantities of beer.
You may remember I told you about my best friend, Joey. He was the one I went to the fraternity rush party where we watched the German ‘Sex Education’ film. James was another engineering student who came from San Francisco. He thought he was a cool dude, but who was I to argue with someone who was always good for a few joints of good marijuana.
My mother had left earlier for dinner and a late night dancing at some dive. My sister volunteered to spend the evening in her room, but I invited her to join us around the coffee table for pizza. My sister checked out my friends before accepting the offer. I was a little taken aback when she licked her lips.
There wasn’t enough room for all of us to sit on the small couch and my mom’s armchair. So we sat on the rug and used the sofa as a backrest.
I started to protest when Joey offered her a beer, but Jean righteously pointed out that she was the same age as me. Besides, she said that I had finished off the last of the soda when I got home. I don’t remember what was on TV, but it held our attention while we ate. I made sure Jean only drank one beer with her pizza.
It seemed James was a lightweight when it came to drinking. He had rapidly polished off three bottles when he announced he couldn’t do anymore.
Joey said, “Any chance you have a shot glass in the house?”
Jean and I laughed. Our mother collected shot glasses like some women collect those cute Hummel ceramic figurines. I was also on my third beer and too slow for my sister. She jumped up and soon returned with four shot glasses.
I said, “Jean, what do you think you’re doing? You’re underage, and you shouldn’t drink.”
“Oh, big college man. You’re only 32 minutes older than me. We’re both underage, but I’ll bet Coleen and I have drunk a lot more than you.”
Joey said, “Who’s Coleen. I think I’d like to meet her.”
Our next-door neighbor was also a high school teacher and my mom’s best friend. They had both been pregnant together. So, our neighbor’s daughter, Coleen, grew up with Jean and me. There was even an embarrassing picture on our mantle of the three of us as toddlers taking a bath together. Coleen was the first girl I ever kissed. When we broke up in my Sophomore year of high school, she complained that I was too quiet and timid. She had only gotten wilder as she got older.
I said, “She’s my sister’s oldest friend and a bad influence. If you like wild and crazy girls, Coleen’s the girl for you.”
Jean glared at me as she replied. “Sorry, Joey, my best friend is in Maine with her parents. You’ll just have to be satisfied with my boring company.”
While we discussed Coleen, Joey poured shots of my mom’s best Tequila. James grabbed his glass as soon as it was filled and sipped cautiously. He wrinkled his nose and finished the shot. James thanked Joey when the Italian refilled it. I was surprised since my hippie friend usually stuck to marijuana.
Joey laughed, “Jean, I hardly think you’re boring, but if you think you need a little something to make the party more exciting, I have just the game for you. Everyone chugs a shot and then chases it with a beer. The winner is the one with the least beer remaining in their bottle.”
James said, “I’m going to need another beer.”
Joey said, “We all need to start with a full bottle. Jean, could you be a sweetheart and fetch four beers?”
Jean finished off the dregs in her first beer before collecting the empties. She returned shortly from the kitchen with four cold ones. She passed them around before sitting with us on the floor.
Joey looked around the table as he said, “I’ll count to three, and then we all throw back our shots. If you manage to down the shot clean, you get to take one breath before chugging as much beer as you can without taking another breath. Any questions?”
Joey was smiling at Jean when he finished. She smiled back and gave a slight nod.
Joey took a few deep breaths and began counting with his fingers, “1, 2, 3….”
I threw back half of my shot. Damn, it burned my throat. I started sputtering and reached for the beer before finishing my Tequila. James didn’t fare any better. Only Joey and my sister finished their shots cleanly. I watched as the two of them chugged from their bottles. Joey only had a little left when he stopped for a breath. He slammed his bottle down on the table with less than an inch left. My eyes bugged out as I watched Jean drain her bottle before holding it upside down over the coffee table. She gave it a shake, and a couple of drops fell out.
Joey said, “Fuck me. You must have cheated.”
Jean said, “If you think I snuck in an extra breath before swallowing my beer, we can do it again one at a time so everyone can watch. But the bet is double.”
Joey looked puzzled. “What bet?”
Jean grinned, “The one where the loser loses a piece of clothing for the rest of the party. Of course, double means two items of clothing.”
I swear I never heard anything about a bet, but Joey grinned like a crazed hyena who’s just stolen a meal from a lion.
“Oh yeah, that bet. Hell, yes, you’re on.”
Joey proceeded to pour two more shots while Jean grabbed a couple more beers from the fridge. James and I were on the sidelines, sipping our half-full beers and watching with amused expressions. We all knew my sister had made up the bet, but I figured Joey was sandbagging my sister. She had dressed in her favorite tight, cut-off jeans and a short-sleeved peasant blouse that left several inches of her taut abdomen exposed above her low-rise short shorts. The loose top didn’t show a hint of a bra. All three guys were hoping Jean would soon be reduced to her bra and panties assuming she was even wearing a bra in these early days of women’s liberation.
Joey offered to go first. He took several long, deep breaths before grabbing his shot glass. He drank it in one quick gulp before setting the shot glass down. Joey took a quick deep breath and began chugging his beer. When he slammed his bottle down on the table, there was maybe a quarter of an inch left. Jean smiled and licked her lips.
Joey said, “Beat that. Everyone knows girls are lightweight drinkers.”
Jean said, “Is that so? I’d offer to up the bet, but no one wants to see your junk.”
Jean took a long deep breath before throwing back her shot. My sister paused to take another deep breath before grabbing her beer. We all stared at her throat as she swallowed vigorously until the bottle was empty. Only a single drop fell when she held the bottle upside down over the table.
Jean grinned. “Time to pay up, Dude.”
Joey said, “Gladly. It’s hotter than hell in here anyway. Rob, are you sure we can’t turn down the thermostat?”
“Sorry, man, my mom would cut off our balls if you so much as look at the thermostat.”
After my Bronx friend removed everything except his boxers, Jean smiled at James and me.
“Now, you guys have to remove an item. It’s your choice, pants or shirt.”
“Sis, I don’t remember any bet.”
Joey laughed. “You guys were all Ok with the bet when you thought Jean would lose. It’s time to pay up.”
I said, “Fine. I’ll strip to my underwear to make Joey comfortable. It’s too hot for clothes anyway.”
I stripped off my shorts and tee shirt. Jean smiled at me as I shifted from one foot to the other, wearing only an old pair of faded boxers. My sister’s eyes were focused on the tent in my underpants as she licked her lips. I carefully adjusted the ragged shorts to hide my growing erection. Why did today have to be the day I wore the ones missing the button on the fly?
My sister smiled. “Thanks, Robbie, for being a good sport.”
Joey and I looked at James, who had laid four fat joins on the table while we were distracted.
Joey said, “Come on, man. Get with the program.”
James shrugged and stood up. He was a good two inches taller than my six feet but at least thirty pounds lighter. My friend calmly stripped to his tight white briefs. He adjusted his underwear as Jean whistled. Damn, the skinny dude was packing. James smiled at her and sat down. His hand went for one of the joints.
“Seriously, James, my sister’s in high school. She can’t smoke weed.”
Jean laughed. “I already drank you under the table. Maybe you should talk to Coleen before you tell me I can’t smoke weed. While you were studying for a test, we went to a Halloween frat party at Alpha Zeta Pi. I’ll bet I’ve done more weed than you.”
“Please spare me, Jean. I don’t want to hear any more about your crazy antics with that wack job, Coleen.”
James ignored my protest and lit up the joint. I turned on the TV. We were just in time for the comedy quiz show “You Bet Your Life, hosted by Groucho Marx. James lit up one joint after another. It was the best marijuana I’d ever had in my young life, even though it didn’t compare to what I got later in Nam. We were pretty buzzed by the time someone on the quiz show said the magic word. We laughed as the duck came down with the fifty-dollar prize.
I noticed James carefully snuffing out each joint when it got down to about a third left.
I said, “James, what’s up with the pile of roaches. You’re wasting a lot of good weed.”
James smiled. “Guess you’ve never heard of a shotgun.”
Jean’s ears perked up. “A guy was giving shotguns at the frat party we crashed. It was awesome, but I’m still unsure how he did it.”
James grinned at my sister. ” It’s easy enough. I’d be glad to show you if you’re interested.”
“For sure. How do I do it.”
James showed my sister how to reverse a joint and hold it inside her mouth without touching her tongue. He had Jean practice with an unlit joint. Then my skinny friend demonstrated the technique. I watched as he lit one and gave my sister a shotgun. He knelt next to her and cupped the back of her neck. My friend pressed his lips against hers and blew a ton of potent smoke into her mouth while she inhaled. A few minutes later, she copied her teacher and returned the favor.
Joey eagerly said, “My turn.”
Joey’s hands were all over my sister’s bare waist as she gave him a long hit.
Afterward, Jean turned to me and said, “Want some?”
How could I refuse my perky sister? I was using the armchair as my backrest, and she had to crawl over to me. I had an intoxicating view down the top of her gaping peasant blouse. I could see her generous breasts overflowing a white pushup bra. I was surprised when she straddled my thighs before giving me a long shotgun hit. I was shocked when she began grinding against my crotch in a slow lap dance.
She didn’t stop rubbing herself against my barely concealed erection when she sat back and removed the stub of the joint from her mouth. I gasped when she pressed her open mouth against my lips and pressed her tongue inside my mouth. My sister’s lap dance was almost too long. I can’t imagine anything more embarrassing than coming on my sister’s short shorts in front of my friends.
Joey said, “Damn, Rob, your sister is hot. I call seconds on a lap dance.”
Jean turned her head and said, “You sure you can handle it, Joey?”
“It wouldn’t be my first rodeo. There’s a strip club in the Bronx where they give topless lap dances.”
“Then I guess you can handle the wait while I give James a turn. After all, he furnished the weed.”
Joey shrugged to conceal his obvious disappointment.
Jean listened carefully to the signs of my growing arousal and dismounted before I could embarrass myself. I quickly adjusted my boxers to avoid flashing my rock-hard cock.
“Thanks, sis, for the most painful blue balls I’ve ever had.”
Jean laughed, “It was my pleasure, Robbie.”
Jean grabbed another short joint and straddled James’ lap. She repeated the performance she had just given me and left him with a grin almost as big as the tent in his white briefs. As Jean straddled Joey’s lap, his big hands jumped to her bare waist. My sister started her lap dance as she lit the joint.
“Careful with the hands, Joey. You’ll get thrown out by the bouncer.”
Joey ignored her warning. His hands slipped under the bottom of my sister’s loose blouse. Jean grabbed his hands and pushed them down to her waist. Her hips were already undulating as she worked her crotch against his boxers. My sister cupped his face and pressed her lips against his. I heard him deeply inhale as she blew a strong hit into his lungs. Joey couldn’t control his hands for long. They snuck under her blouse again and managed to slip up even higher. Jean didn’t pause her lap dance and pressed her crotch even harder against Joey. She broke lip contact for a moment to allow the big city boy a chance to breathe before giving him a second hit.
My sister sat back and tossed the spent joint toward the ashtray. She grabbed his wrists and again pulled his wayward hands to her waist. She did it without missing a beat in her slow dance.
“Joey, you’re being a bad boy. I warned you about the bouncer.”
Joey cupped my sister’s ass and said, “I don’t see any stupid bouncers.”
“My brother is my bouncer.”
Joey laughed. “Hey, Rob, what’s the going rate for a topless lap dance.”
My eyes were riveted on my sister’s twirling butt. Her short cut-offs exposed the bottoms of her ass cheeks. I was concerned about how things seemed to be spiraling out of control.
“Come on, Joey, behave. It’s my sister you’re talking about.”
Joey turned his attention back to my sister, who hadn’t stopped grinding against his crotch.
“I’ll pay you twenty dollars to give me a topless dance.”
I know twenty dollars doesn’t sound like a lot, but in 1963 my mother earned seventy-six dollars a week as an experienced high school teacher. I could see Jean was interested. She could buy a couple of nice outfits for that amount.
“Not going to happen, Joey. However, I might be persuaded to remove my blouse for twenty dollars.”
I groaned when I heard her offer. “Jean, don’t do it. There is a reason girls who’ve dated him call him the octopus.”
Jean laughed, “Don’t worry. I’m a big girl. I can handle Joey’s tentacles.”
Joey knew he had my sister’s interest and decided to press his luck.
“Here’s my final offer. I’ll give you the twenty if you take off your blouse and shorts and give me a real lap dance.”
Jean’s paused with her hands on Joey’s shoulders. I hoped she would tell him off or, even better yet, slap his face. I certainly didn’t expect her to take his offer seriously. I was annoyed when my little sister asked for clarification.
“What do you mean by real?”
Joey knew he had her. “Let’s just say I don’t want to end up with blue balls like James and your brother.”
James and I inhaled sharply when the meaning of Joey’s remark sunk in.
Jean said, “I can do that, but I need another shot of Tequila first. I also want the money upfront.”
I groaned, “Jean, no.”
My sister got up so Joey could reach for his wallet. She shoved the twenty into her cut-off jeans’ back pocket and slowly walked to the record player, swaying her hips for Joey’s benefit. She looked through a pile of 45 RPM records before selecting one. It was a record my mom bought because she liked David Rose’s hit ‘Ebb Tide.’ My sister put on the more infamous B side, a lively instrumental adopted by striptease artists worldwide.
As soon as the song started to play, Joey shouted, “Oh my God, that’s perfect. They always play ‘The Stripper’ at the clubs in the Bronx.”
James grinned as he poured a heavy shot for the girl who had left him with a massive erection. Jean leaned over and grabbed her shot. My sister thanked him and smiled as she caught him staring down the top of her blouse. She threw back the straight shot, made a face, and gulped down the rest of her beer.
She smiled at Joey. “Glad you approve of my selection. Maybe it would be more like your favorite strip club if you sat on the couch.”
Joey scrambled up and sat in the middle of the couch. He watched wide-eyed as Jean began a slow shimmy between his widespread thighs. Instead of immediately removing her clothes, she caressed her body with her hands. Her hands slid up to her French braid. She pulled the braid apart and shook her dark hair down over her ample breasts.
Joey said, “You’d better hurry. The song’s almost over.”
Jean spoke in a husky voice that I’d never heard before. “Take a deep breath and relax, honey. I don’t do hurry. Besides, I have it on repeat. When I’m done with you, that tentpole in your boxers will be as limp as an overcooked strand of spaghetti.”
Jean acted like she was a movie star getting into character as a professional stripper. I remembered the line about ‘I don’t do hurry.’ She’d borrowed it from a soft-core movie we’d watched on TV. My sister wasn’t in any hurry as she grasped the bottom of her blouse and slowly lifted it over her generous breasts. My cock was as hard as it had been when she gave me a lap dance earlier.
I muttered a feeble protest. “Jesus Christ, Jean, what are you doing?”
She waited for the right time in the song before pulling her peasant blouse over her head. She twirled it around in a circle over her head before tossing it in my face.
“Entertaining your friends and making an easy twenty, Robbie.”
All three guys fixed their eyes on my sister’s white pushup bra. I was impressed that the sturdy bra managed to constrain her generous breasts so well that they barely wobbled with her slow dance moves. However, when Jean put her hands on my Italian friend’s shoulders and shook her torso, the upper half of her breasts jiggled like jello.
Jean turned her back to Joey and bent over to grab her ankles. She twirled her athletic ass in Joey’s face. Suddenly, I realized I’d seen Shirley MacLaine perform the same dance in ‘Irma la Douce.’ I wasn’t surprised when her next move was to stand up, keeping her gyrating ass in my friend’s face. Her hands went to the snap on her jeans. Part of me wanted to yell, “Stop!” when she lowered the zipper on her skin-tight cut-off jeans. Instead, I stayed silent. I was spellbound.
Jean worked her hips hard as she pushed the weather-beaten jeans down over her ass. The tight garment dragged her bikini panties halfway down her cute butt.
James and I were treated to a steamy view of some curly dark pubic hair escaping the front of her panties. I noticed a wet spot at the bottom of her bikini panties. Joey struggled to restrain himself from biting her firm ass just inches from his salivating mouth. Jean dropped the shorts to her ankles and kicked them into James’ lap. She pulled her panties up and spun around to face Joey, who had a monstrous tent in his boxers. While my sister knelt on the couch to straddle Joey’s hips, I stared at her gyrating ass. When she had pulled her bikini panties up, they lodged in the crack of her ass, exposing a sweet amount of her curvy butt.
Jean turned to James and said, “Please pass me a roach.”
James lit one and handed it to her. She put her hands around Joey’s neck and gave him a long slow shotgun while rubbing her panties over the tent in his boxers. As Jean began working on Joey’s cock, his hands rested on her bare, sweaty hips before sliding around to clutch her exposed ass cheeks. Jean stopped to grab the Italian boy’s wrists and pull them back to her hips. She removed the smoking joint for a second to give him a warning.
“Joey, you have to behave, or I’ll call the bouncer.”
Joey laughed. “I still don’t see any bouncer.”
Jean blew one last hit of marijuana smoke into his mouth before tossing away the spent joint. Joey groaned as his arousal neared its peak. I got angry when Joey’s hands went to my sister’s breasts, and he started squeezing them through her pushup bra. I expected my sister to stop his new assault by pulling them away. Instead, she surprised me. Jean arched her back and held his rampaging fingers against her breasts. My friend took her move as encouragement, and after a couple of minutes, he reached around to unsnap her bra. He fumbled around but failed in his first attempt at unfastening a woman’s bra.
My sister grabbed his hands and pulled them back to her hips, but Joey soon tried another attack on the stubborn garment. He brushed her bra straps off her shoulders and pulled the top of her bra down, exposing her pale, heaving breasts. His lips pounced on one of her exposed pink puffy nipples, and my best friend began sucking on her breast vigorously. When he moved his mouth to her other breast, I saw her hard nipple wet with his saliva. Jean’s hips were flying up and down Joey’s erection. Looking at his face, I knew the end was near.
I hadn’t been paying attention to my sister’s state of arousal, so I was surprised when she was overwhelmed by an intense orgasm seconds before Joey shot his load. I hadn’t noticed that my friend’s cock had escaped his boxers until he creamed all over my sister’s white panties.
Jean’s sweaty body twisted and jerked as she squealed. “Oh, oh, oh, oh God, oh God, oh my God…”
Nobody was paying attention to the TV. I had no idea how long the local station had been off the air, but the sound of car tires crunching on our gravel driveway alerted me to our mother’s arrival after a night of drinking and dancing.
I shouted, “My mom’s home. You guys need to go now!”
Jean squealed and snatched up her clothes. She ran off for her room. Ever since the assault by her mother’s black friend, Jean had shown an aversion to encountering any more of her mother’s casual partners.
James and Joey grabbed their clothes and quickly dressed. I showed them out the back door as my drunken mother and her companion entered the front door. I was worried about my mother discovering the remains of our party, but I relaxed when I heard her stumbling against the wall outside her bedroom. My mom shushed her companion before closing the door to her room. A few minutes later, the springs in her bed began squeaking. Soon, our mom’s bed was banging hard against my sister’s bedroom wall.
A moment later, I heard my sister start a shower. I thought about her standing naked under the shower while she rubbed soap over her glistening body. I laid back in bed and jerked off to visions of my sister’s sensual lap dance.
What a night. What a fucking crazy night! I’d seen a girl’s breasts in the flesh for the first time. Just to make the erotic sight more arousing, it was my sister’s pert breasts I’d watched bouncing out of her bra. I was jealous that Joey was the first person to taste her virginal nipples. My mind had exploded at the sight of my sister’s orgasm. I’d watched Frieda have an orgasm under the skillful manipulations of her German partner in the ‘Sex Education’ film, but until I saw it with my own eyes, I wasn’t sure that ordinary girls could even have orgasms. I wondered what it would feel like to give my twin sister an orgasm while I held her in my arms. I finally fell asleep after filling two socks with my cum.
It was almost noon the next day when I crawled out of bed with a skull-splitting headache from too much alcohol and weed. It was Sunday, so my mom and sister had already left for church. I didn’t know how they managed. They had both had a late night with too much booze and dancing with strangers. Ever since my mom had taken to picking up men at sleazy backcountry bars, I’d wondered if she felt like a hypocrite the next day singing in church. Today as I ate breakfast, I knew my sister was also hungover, but I didn’t know if she felt any shame.
Sundays were my mom’s day to bring her life under control. After church, she spent the afternoon grading papers. Jean and I usually had homework of our own to tackle. Every Sunday, my sister would have our mom help prepare a hearty supper. That night we had a nice pot roast with lots of onions, carrots, and potatoes.
Finding privacy in our tiny house was impossible, so I never got a chance to talk to my sister about the previous night’s party. At least she smiled at me when she caught me staring at her breasts.
Monday, my sister and mom both had their periods. As far back as I could remember, their periods were in sync. I knew it was a good thing since I couldn’t imagine spending more days out of the month with one or the other feeling moody. As usual, my mom made her standard comment as a way of announcing the arrival of their periods.
“Robbie, you should be grateful you’re not an identical twin. I don’t think you have the fortitude to handle the misery a woman experiences every month.”
Usually, my mom didn’t miss going out dancing on Wednesday nights, but she stayed home with a heavy period. Our mom usually reserved Wednesdays for dancing at a trashy bar in the boonies where a live country and western band played. I knew the place from the shot glasses she left on the kitchen counter. When I questioned our mom, she said she felt safe there because she wouldn’t see anyone she knew. Besides, the men were burly farmers who knew how to two-step and treat a lady right. I always worried until she arrived home, often with a man drunker than her.
My mom went out on Thursday, leaving my sister and me alone. I was hoping we could go back to our routine of making out. I dreamed about getting a topless lap dance. My sister had other ideas. She worked on an English paper until just after nine while I watched “The Beverly Hillbillies.” I was disappointed when I heard the shower running. It looked like my hopes were dashed.
Jean walked into the living room around eleven, wearing her baby doll pajamas. My eyes bugged out. I didn’t know she owned a set of red lingerie. Her translucent PJs barely concealed the brightly colored underwear. She noticed the excitement in my roving eyes as I stared at her panties. I’d never seen anything as skimpy in the Sears catalog, which was my primary source of knowledge about women’s underwear.
“Take it easy, Robbie. Tomorrow is laundry day, and I’m low on clean underwear. So, I had to dress in the ones I wear under my cheerleader uniform.”
My sister’s Ithaca High School cheerleader outfit consisted of a sleeveless red jacket with gold lettering and a short flouncy pleated red skirt with gold trim. Under her dress, she wore red stretch cotton shorts similar to the spanky pants the girl’s track team wore. The skin-tight shorts weren’t much larger than the bikini panties my sister usually wore.
“Why are they bright red?”
“White underwear shows through my red shorts.”
She spun around and gyrated her hips to draw attention to her half-bare ass cheeks barely concealed under her gauzy PJs.
“Like my hot little red thong? I wear it with my uniform, so I don’t show a panty line.”
Jean waltzed to the record player and put on “The Stripper.” She danced over to where I was sitting on the couch. Her whole body gyrated as her hands unfastened her French braid. She ran her fingers through her dark locks. She nudged my knees apart and continued her sexy dance between my widespread thighs.
She used her husky voice again. “Honey, I think you’ll be more comfortable without your old shirt.”
My sister didn’t wait for my ok before she leaned over and peeled off my tee shirt. I was left wearing nothing more than my boxers which already displayed my arousal.
Her voice and actions showed she was slipping into an imitation of Shirley MacLaine’s stripper persona. I was getting more excited by the moment if the tent pole in my boxers was any indication. I inhaled deeply to catch my sister’s scent. It was a combination of exotic flowers and an overheated body. Then, I realized there was no going back to our long nights of passionate kissing that left me with sore lips and an erection that wouldn’t go away.
That night, I learned a fundamental lesson in human behavior. It seems to be human nature that people rarely go backward in their sexual relations. You may never reach first base with a woman, but when you do, you either head for second base the next time or break off the relationship. The time you spend on first base depends on your previous experience and your partner’s history. Young lovers are notorious for endless make-out sessions. Once you make it to second base, you rarely spend as much time on first. If you make it to home plate, the relationship changes dramatically. From then on, you expect a home run every time. First base is merely an invitation. After a short kiss, second and third bases are simply foreplay for the big climax. However, before that night, I’d never made it past first base.
My sister and I had spent the last couple of weeks on first base. The party with my friends changed everything. My sister was no longer willing to spend the entire night kissing. Despite my fears that my twin sister would stop fooling around with me, she was determined to bring me along with her to second base even if she had to drag me.
After tossing my teeshirt aside, my sister began slowly stripping off her PJs. My eyes danced over her red bra when she threw her pajama top aside. She repeated the move she had used with Joey the night before. She turned her back to me and twirled her ass while she bent at the waist and touched her toes. I got a bigger treat than my friend when she stood up and slowly dropped her pajama shorts. Except for a narrow triangle of red satin between her gorgeous ass cheeks, her butt was naked. I watched the muscles in her ass flex as she rolled her hips.
My sexy twin sister stepped toward the coffee table and bent over again with her legs spread. It was enough for me to see that the bottom of her red thong was wet and clinging to her pussy. The front triangle of satin had partly worked its way between her pussy lips, and I enjoyed the sight of curly dark pubic hairs escaping the edges of the tiny piece of delicate cloth.
When my sister turned around, she had two of the short pieces of marijuana cigarettes James had left behind when he fled our house. She lit one of the roaches and took a toke before straddling my lap. Jean pressed her pink lips against mine and blew a powerful hit into my mouth. My sister ground her panty-clad pussy against my erection while she pressed her red pushup bra against my chest. After two or three shotgun blasts, Jean discarded the remains. She kissed me hard and thrust her tongue into my mouth. I was so turned on I thought I would explode. I was trying to behave myself and kept my hands on her hips. Jean broke the kiss and sat back. She stared into my eyes as she pulled my hands to her bare ass cheeks.
“Robbie, there’s no bouncer around. Relax and enjoy yourself.”
Oh God, I enjoyed myself. I’m a leg and ass man, and I was in heaven. My twin sister’s athletic ass felt awesome as her buttocks flexed each time she rubbed her slit up and down my throbbing erection.
Jean sat back and lit the second roach. She took a deep toke before she blasted me with a couple of long shotgun hits. We were flying high by the time the roach burnt down to a stub. She wrapped her arms around my neck and rode me hard until I was seconds away from exploding. She sat back and laughed while I whined about her stopping her dance. Her hands went to the back of her bra. I got excited at the promise that I would soon slide into second base. She stopped me when I eagerly tried to help.
“Hands off. Your excitable friend broke the hooks on my bra last night. I can’t afford to have any more bras ruined.”
My sister’s generous breasts jiggled to my delight when she tossed the red bra aside. Jean rose on her knees and offered me a choice of breasts. It was an impossible choice. Her pink nipples were hard and begging for my lips. I latched on to one of the beauties with my eager mouth. My hand kneaded her other breast, and it overflowed my grasping fingers. I couldn’t believe how soft my sister’s breasts were. I switched my lips back and forth between the sweet melons. While Jean seemed to enjoy my clumsy attention, I was in heaven.
Hell, I had just gotten to second base and never wanted to return to the time before we first kissed. I enjoyed my twin sister’s breasts for what seemed to be an eternity. In my explorations, I noticed a pattern of seven small moles under her right breast. They reminded me of the Big Dipper; however, they pointed to her nipple instead of the North Star.
My sister’s moans became louder. She pushed back on my shoulders and smiled at me as my lips lost contact with her lovely breast. I moaned a protest before she began kissing me passionately. I felt her hard moist nipples pressed against my bare chest. I wanted them back in my mouth. I was afraid I would never taste her sweet breasts again.
My sister broke the kiss. It was my turn to moan when she began dancing on my cock again. Jean was rolling her hips to drive her pussy up and down my erection. Each thrust ended in a squeal as her body jerked when her silk-covered clit smashed against my hard cock. She picked up her pace. As our arousal grew, I wondered who would climax first. I’d watched my lovely sister have an intense orgasm while dancing for Joey and hoped she would enjoy something similar in my arms.
My hands clutched her bare, flexing buttocks, pulling her tight against my raging erection. Our panting increased until my sweet sister’s body exploded in another mind-numbing orgasm. She held me close as her body trembled. Her sweaty breasts pressed against my chest, and I buried my face in her disheveled mane. I smelled a mixture of shampoo, her overheated body, and the fragrant scent of her sex. It was a while before either of us could speak.
” Oh, God, Robbie, I love you. That was amazing.”
I managed a moan as she shifted her hips on my throbbing erection. I had been so close. My sister laughed at my distress. She carefully moved off my lap and sat beside me. Her delicate hand slipped inside the fly of my boxers and retrieved my hard cock. Jean giggled as it jumped in her hand when she gave it a slow stroke.
“Well, dear brother, what should we do about this?”
I stared at my sister’s hand, sliding up and down my erection. I was afraid if I said anything, I would break the spell.
“Have you ever had a hand job? Coleen told me she gives her boyfriend one if she’s not in the mood.”
“Oh God, please….”
“You’re going to shoot semen all over everything. Aren’t you? What do you do when you jack off at night?”
Oh, God, how did she know? I was so embarrassed that I couldn’t find the words to answer her. I didn’t know what to say to keep her pumping my cock. I wanted her to squeeze me tighter and move her hand faster. My curious sister laughed at my blushing face.
“Do you think I can’t hear you through the thin walls? It’s Ok, Robbie. I play with myself, too, especially after we make out. Fortunately, I don’t make a big mess. All I need to clean up is a tissue. Do you think that would keep you from spraying cum all over me and the couch?”
I nodded my head. My sister laughed at my distress. She got up and took a couple of tissues from the box on the end table. My mom and sister went through tissues like there was no tomorrow, especially during the romantic, tear-jerkers they liked to watch on the TV.
Before she sat down, she grabbed my boxers and pulled them off. She sat next to me on the couch and kissed me. I slid my arm around her torso and cupped her breast while she set to work on my cock with both hands. Her fingers smeared a glob of precum around the head of my cock while her other hand went to work furiously, pumping my cock. I got carried away and roughly tugged and twisted her hard nipple. She must have known I was getting close because she wrapped the head of my cock in tissue like it was a birthday present. When she began squeezing my balls with one hand while stroking my cock with the other, I lost it. My hips began bucking just before I shot my load into the tissues. I’d never had an orgasm anywhere near as intense. It seemed to last forever as my sweet sister drained my balls. I finally had to stop her when pleasure turned to pain.
“Enough. Oh God, enough. I can’t take anymore.”
“Was that Ok? Did I do it right?”
“Oh my God, that was fantastic. I think I’m in love.”
My sister laughed. She held the tissue to her nose and made a face. I noticed some of my semen had leaked onto my sister’s hand. She got up and went to the kitchen to dispose of the cum soaked tissues. She swished her nearly bare ass as she walked. I heard her wash her hand for a long time before she returned.
She noticed the test pattern on the TV and said, “Oh, oh. It’s late. Mom will be home soon.”
She gave me a peck on the cheek before clearing the coffee table. After dumping our trash in the garbage, she returned for her clothes. By then, I was on my feet and made it to my bedroom a couple of minutes before our mom pulled into the driveway, followed by the car of tonight’s boyfriend.
#
Over the following days and weeks, we repeated what became our new routine daily. I was in a daze at school. I couldn’t take my mind off the feel of my sister’s soft perky breasts while her hand pumped my hard cock. My only regret was I hadn’t been allowed to explore the treasures concealed under my twin’s sexy panties.
A week before Christmas, I returned from classes and discovered my sister in the kitchen. Her eyes were squeezed shut, and her head was tilted back. It looked like she was attempting to swallow a green banana, like a demented sword swallower in the circus. She was so focused on the skinny fruit that she didn’t see me. I kept quiet as I watched her repeatedly push it down her throat until she gagged. Her tears mixed with saliva and dribbled from her chin.
With each attempt, she worked more of it down her slender throat. I expected her to stop when she had swallowed all of it except for the end she was grasping. Instead, she began thrusting the fruit in and out of her mouth. She gagged again but fought for control. Soon, the only noise she was making sounded like, ‘gak, gak, gak…’ Finally, she pulled the saliva-coated banana from her mouth and opened her eyes. She caught me staring at her, totally bewildered. She grinned at me.
“Coleen told me about blow jobs. My best friend reserves them for special occasions because guys love them. Instead of jacking off a guy she likes, she performs oral sex as a treat. She showed me how to practice on a banana so I don’t gag on a guy’s cock or, even worse, puke. She offered to let me practice with her current boyfriend, but I said I’d prefer to do it with someone special. I can’t wait to try it on you.”
I couldn’t believe my ears. I’d been dreaming about a blow job since I’d watched Frieda give Heinrich one in the sex education video. After the frat party, Joey bragged about his girlfriend’s superpower. He claimed his girl could suck so hard that she could suck a marble up a straw.
I said, “Why wait?”
My sister laughed, “Down, boy, I have homework. Now’s not the time to slack off if I want to get into college.”
The truth was my studies were suffering from our nighttime activities. My best studying was on the nights my mom was home. Even then, I was easily distracted by something as simple as my sister walking past my bedroom in her PJs.
Tonight, I had an even harder time studying. I was in torment thinking about my sister’s pouty lips wrapped around my hard cock. It was all I could do to keep myself from jacking off while I took a shower. It wouldn’t be cool to make my sister lick my sweaty cock. It was nearly nine when my sister took a shower. Close to ten, she appeared in my bedroom doorway wearing her baby doll PJs. The hall light behind her made it apparent she wasn’t wearing a bra. My cock had been semi-hard ever since she promised me a blowjob. Now it sprung to life.
My smiling sister beckoned me to follow her into her bedroom. I stripped off my tee shirt and tossed it on my bedroom floor. I was down to my boxers when I entered her small room. The only light came from a pair of scented candles. Ray Charles’ romantic song “I can’t stop loving you” was playing. Her room decorations were very feminine and made me feel like an intruder. Her room was tidy, while mine was so cluttered that you risked life and limb just trying to reach the bed.
Tonight was nothing like our usual routine. I was disappointed when I didn’t get a lap dance; however, what I got was even better. My sister wrapped her arms around my neck and kissed me. I could feel her unconstrained nipples rubbing across my bare chest as I slid my hands down her back and cupped her ass cheeks. By the time my sister stepped back, I was trembling with arousal. She pushed me back to sit on her twin bed. She did an erotic dance for me, swaying to Ray Charles’ sexy tune. She quickly stripped down to her white bikini panties. It seemed she was as eager as I was. She knelt in front of me and tugged on my boxers. I raised my hips to help her and sat on the edge of her bed, stark naked.
Jean knelt at my feet and wrapped her hands around my twitching erection. With one hand stacked above the other, she had all my cock covered except the mushroom head. My sweet sister leaned over and licked the hyper-sensitive tip of my cock while her hands began to slowly stroke my rock-hard shaft. She removed her top hand and cupped my balls. I trembled as her lips slid halfway down my cock. She bobbed up and down on my twitching erection several times and suddenly paused. She raised her eyes to mine. I recognized my sister’s curious look.
“Sis, you’re doing fantastic. Please don’t stop.”
There would be plenty of time to critique her performance later. Right now, she was doing an excellent job for a beginner. Hey, it was my first time too. Besides, what kind of idiot complains when a beautiful, half-naked woman has your hard cock halfway down her throat?
All I knew about blow jobs came from the sex education video I watched at the frat house. I doubt Heinrich had it better with Frieda’s red lips bobbing on his German cock. Afterward, I could tell my sister she needed to grip my cock tighter and be more gentle when massaging my balls.
When I got close, I grasped the back of her head and tried to press my cock deeper. My lovely twin removed her hand from the bottom of my cock and drove her mouth down to the base. Jean’s practicing with the banana paid off. She only coughed once, and that might have been from my pubic hair tickling her nose. My sister did some deep diving before coming up for air. On the third dive, I shot my load. She quickly pulled her head back to take the rest of my cum in her mouth. She used a combination of her hands, massaging my balls and her mouth, sucking hard to milk every last drop of semen out of my shaking body. I fell back on her bed, moaning. My lovely twin spit my cum into a tissue.
Over the next few weeks, my sister insisted on practicing blow jobs every night. As if I were going to argue. She combined it with her lap dance routine. After she had achieved a sweet orgasm by rubbing her sex on my cock, she would slide to the floor and finish me off with her mouth instead of her hand. I saw no reason to complain that she always spit my cum into a tissue.
#
Our mom was home most of Christmas vacation. Her continued presence interfered with our nightly play. Still, it was nice being a family for a change. We exchanged presents and had a tasty ham for Christmas dinner like a traditional family. My sister and I were happy for our mom when she announced she’d been invited to a party with her fellow teachers on New Year’s Eve. She was going to the party with Coleen’s mother. I was looking forward to spending the night with my sister. I was dying for a blow job.
My sister had other plans. With her mother gone, Coleen decided to throw her own New Year’s Eve party. She invited both of us. I wasn’t excited about partying with crazed high school kids, but Jean wanted to go. I couldn’t talk her out of it. She told me Coleen was her best friend, and all her high school friends would be there. She promised plenty of weed, a keg, and dancing. I groaned when she offered to hook me up with Cheryl, who had just broken up with the quarterback and was available. The only girl I wanted was my sister.
My only consolation was that the party was next door; if it was a disaster, I could get drunk and walk home. If I was lucky, I hoped to convince my sister to leave early. It had been nearly a week since she’d given me my last blow job. I was getting tired of making love to my socks. My dream was to have my sister in my arms at midnight.
Of course, the party was a bust for me. With my lousy attitude, what else would you expect? Oh, I tried to have a good time. I had a couple of beers and shared a joint with a couple of losers to get in a party mood. Most of the girls were in a relationship. Cheryl was pretty enough, but by the time I was mellow enough to let my sister introduce us, she was already slow dancing with some pimple-faced moron. Her new boyfriend had his hands all over her plump ass in a dark corner. It looked like he was trying to shove his tongue down her throat.
My sister loves dancing, so I wasn’t surprised when I turned around and saw Jean dancing with one of her classmates. She had cautioned me before the party that dancing with her brother wouldn’t look right. I had to agree with her. High school was a hotbed of gossip. I watched her dancing out of the corner of my eye. Damn, she looked hot in her party dress. I was jealous. Even worse, I was getting aroused. I headed to the kitchen to get a beer and cool off. My ex-girlfriend laughed when she saw me.
Coleen said, “Is that a banana in your pocket, or are you just glad to see me?”
Leave it to Coleen to use that old tired joke in an attempt to embarrass me. She’d broken up with me because I was too timid. Well, times had changed. I was in college now. Perhaps, more to the point, playing around with my sweet sister had given me confidence.
“It could be a banana, or it could be something else. Maybe, you’d like to check it out. My sister says you like to swallow bananas whole.”
Coleen looked surprised, but only for a moment. She licked her lips and smirked. She moved close enough to press the tips of her humongous breasts against my chest. Her skimpy party dress exposed acres of beautiful cleavage. One of her hands went to the back of my neck. Her other hand found my erection. I groaned when she started rubbing my cock through my khakis.
“I’m surprised she told you about using a banana for practice. Sometimes, I forget you guys are twins. Jeannie Beanie asked for my help, but she never told me who the lucky boy was. I’m dying to know. Any chance you can whisper his name in my ear?”
Her lips pressed against mine as she tried to coax the embarrassing information from me. She had no idea about her best friend’s incestuous relationship, and there was no way I’d ever enlighten her. Still, I couldn’t complain about her interrogation technique. She cheerfully worked her soft hand up and down my hard cock.
I had been drinking a lot because I was bored. Now, I found myself considering hooking up with Coleen again. She was coming on to me strong, and I found her to be even hotter and sexier than when I dated her. We’d kissed a couple of times back then, but I’d been too timid to explore her curvy body. Perhaps, tonight was my chance to get lucky. I knew I would enjoy playing with her plump melons even if I didn’t lose my virginity.
It seems Coleen was just teasing. I heard someone cough behind me. My next-door neighbor danced away and laughed as she introduced us.
“Robbie, I’d like you to meet my boyfriend. Mike, this is Jean’s twin brother. We’ve known each other since we were toddlers.”
I still went to the Ithaca High School football games and recognized the quarterback immediately. I just knew Coleen had stolen him from Cheryl. The guy frowned but held out his hand. So much for playing with Coleen’s beautiful breasts.
It was almost midnight. I went looking for Jean and found her kissing her dance partner as the TV signaled the start of the New Year. I gave up and went home. Jean came in long after I crawled into bed. I was having trouble sleeping. I wondered if my sister was serious about the guy she was kissing. I knew our incestuous relationship couldn’t go on forever. Still, I was jealous.
Our mom drove into the driveway close to two. I heard her giggle as she led some man to her bedroom. The sound of squeaking bedsprings soon followed. I guess one thing wasn’t going to change in the new year.
#
Robert announced he had to eat lunch and hung up. Once again, I was left puzzled. How much of his tale was reality, and how much was the result of his head wound? I was surprised when he described the pattern of seven small moles under Jean’s right breast. I hadn’t thought about it before he remarked that they reminded him of the Big Dipper, but his description was accurate. So, I knew he had seen his sister’s bare breasts at least once. Maybe, it happened when she lost her little French bikini while giving water therapy classes to her wounded warriors. If Robert was close enough, he could have seen the moles on her breast. The alternative was impossible to believe. I couldn’t picture my good Christian wife giving one of Robert’s friends a topless lap dance.