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Archive-name: Family/toms1st.txt
Archive-author: 
Archive-title: Tommy's First Time (and Mine)


              There wasn't anything different about this
       particular night. I was babysitting my kid brother,
       Tommy, again. He was ten, I'd just turned fourteen,
       and ever since mom and dad split up it seemed like
       I'd spent more time with him than I did with my
       friends.

              It was a school night and at nine o'clock I
       turned off the tv and told Tommy it was time for bed.
       He was a good kid, he hardly ever gave me any lip or
       made me yell at him, but this night he balked.

              "I'm not sleepy," he said.

              I argued with him, half-heartedly (mom wasn't
       due back until midnight), but there really wasn't any
       reason to fight about it. I told him he had to come
       up at 9:30 and retreated to my room, to study. I
       heard the tv go back on as I closed my door.

              I changed from jeans and t-shirt into a flan-
       nel nightgown. The books were piled high on my desk,
       but I wasn't really interested in them. In fact, all
       I could think of lately was the vibrator I'd found in
       my mom's room a few weeks before. I was awakening,
       sexually, and this toy was absolutely the greatest. I
       worried that thinking about sex all the time was
       going to ruin me, but it felt so good I didn't really
       care.

              I lay down on my bed and stared at the ceil-
       ing. My friend Jeannie had already had sex with a
       boy. I imagined his fingers as mine slid under the
       elastic waistband of my panties and explored my pubic
       hair. As I stroked myself I grew warm, my legs and
       shoulders relaxed and my eyelids grew heavy. I rubbed
       my nipples with one hand and pressed my button with
       the other. It felt glorious. But lying there, rocking
       my hips up and down, trying to imagine an unseen boy
       in the Poconos sliding his penis inside me, I kept
       thinking of the vibrator. Finally, I sat up and
       sighed.

              "This is going to wreck me," I thought, slid
       off the bed and bounded out of my room. The tv was
       still going downstairs as I crept into my mother's
       dark room. I was getting good at this, I thought, as
       I slid open her bottom drawer. Beneath some sweaters
       it lay, a square white plastic handle with a dull red
       ball on the end of a metal rod. The cord was coiled
       carelessly and I noted its position and attitude as I
       lifted the joygiving device from it's resting place.
       I scurried back to my room and shivered. I couldn't
       wait.

              It was a hot day. The sun beat down hard, the
       heat was enveloping, oppressive. A bead of sweat
       trickled down my neck as I climbed onto White Rock. I
       cherished the sun's power, felt it surge through me,
       felt as if I could never escape it, then dove toward
       it, into the air, attacked the heat, challenged it
       head on before slicing into the clear fresh water. My
       body tingled, the chill snapped my pores shut. The
       ripples massaged my shoulders, brushed lightly my
       breasts and belly before kissing my inner thighs
       goodbye. I climbed up onto the raft.

              The ashen wood was sharp with heat. I stepped
       gingerly, then plopped down in the puddle I'd made.
       Already the wet was evaporating from my skin, the sun
       once again taking hold. The lake was nearly deserted,
       except for the distant drone of a power boat. I un-
       fastened the back clasp of my bikini top and let the
       sides fall to the wood. Small white patches of my
       breasts peeked from beneath my armpits. I rested my
       head on my folded arms and closed my eyes. The puls-
       ing heat and faraway drone filled my thoughts with
       glorious nothingness.

              I heard him before I saw him. The raft rocked
       and a sluice of water fell beside me. He was older,
       maybe 16, and taut and dark. His body shimmered as he
       pulled himself up and rolled onto the raft. His soft
       smile reassured me. I reached back, to refasten my
       top, but he took the string from my hand and I
       demurred. Wordlessly he climbed astride my back, his
       cool skin covering mine, and licked along my spine. I
       shivered and buried my face deep into my arms.

              His fingers landed behind my ears and pushed
       forward, brushing my ear, slipping across my cheeks.
       I took his index finger in my mouth and sucked. His
       tongue was an ice cube on my scalded skin.

              Next his tongue traced the curve of my armpit,
       flicking wildly into soft down there. Amazingly I
       wasn't tickled, I was charged fully, aglow and alive.
       I licked between his fingers and pressed my bottom
       up, into his groin. His tongue rolled along the side
       of my breast... It's incredible, I thought and turned
       toward him. My hard nipple plunged into his mouth. I
       raked my nails across his back and ground my groin
       into his hip. I was on fire. Could this really be it?

              Then he kissed my lips. His soft caress, his
       firm warm lips, his tongue flicking deftly against
       mine. I wanted to swallow his tongue, wanted to feel
       everything inside me, but he held back, made me wait,
       then engulfed my tongue as his strong hands slid in-
       side my bathing suit and cupped my bottom. I was
       shaking, now, uncontrollable. I felt his penis, rock
       hard, straining against his suit. My hand, in-
       experienced and awkward, felt its length, felt its
       power. It twitched gamely, and I rubbed...

              "Heather!"

              It was my mom! Twenty yards away, on shore,
       watching me be ravished by .....? I tensed, for a
       second, then his mouth took my other breast and I
       surrendered. His finger slid along the lips of my
       vagina. I was soaking down there, I pushed toward him
       and his finger slipped in.

              "Heather! What are you doing?!"

              "Go away, mother," I wanted to shout but in-
       stead I sucked his ear lobe and cherished the feeling
       as he pulled my bikini bottom down past my knees. Now
       the hot air was cooling, as it wafted in my deepest
       recesses. His hand pressed my clitoris and I pressed
       back, pushing that hard small point down into my cen-
       ter, forcing out the pleasure I'd never before...

              "Heather? What are you doing?"

              It was Tommy. I opened my eyes and flipped the
       vibrator off. He was staring, amazed. I pulled my
       nightgown down.

              "Get out of here!" I yelled at him, but he
       didn't move.

              "What is that thing?"

              "Tommy! Get our of here!" I yelled and turned
       away, but he stepped up to the side of the bed and
       sat down.

              "That feels good, doesn't it?" he asked and
       took it from my hand. The machine flicked on and I
       felt Tommy's hand on my thigh. He started to raise my
       nightgown but I rolled off the bed and glared at him.
       He looked hurt.

              "Do it yourself," I said, angrily, and walked
       out into the hall. I was embarrassed, sure,
       humiliated. And confused. In my room was my little
       brother, jerking off with a vibrator, on my bed. I
       paced up the hall, not sure what to do... Then I
       walked back into my room.
              His penis was tiny but hard. He gently rubbed
       the vibrating red ball over the tip and I saw his
       thighs tense with pleasure. His eyes were shut and
       his other hand held the base of his penis tightly,
       lifting it toward the mean machine. I had to smile.

              It seemed like there was something good going
       on here. I'd felt ashamed and embarrassed, but now I
       felt closer to Tommy than I ever had before. He knew
       my darkest secret and he didn't make fun of me. He
       didn't hurt me, he made me feel better for his know-
       ing. I sat down on the bed. He looked at me and
       smiled excitedly.

              "This is great," he whispered.

              I shook as I reached out to him. I hesitated,
       but then I took the vibrator from him and turned it
       off and I felt stronger. I took his penis in my hand
       and pulled on it awkwardly. I suppose I wasn't at all
       sure, really, what to do. "Oh, Heather," Tommy
       moaned, and I knew I was doing the right thing. The
       bone in his penis felt funny, odd, but the skin was
       tight and as the blood coursed through I felt a fa-
       miliar twitch between my legs.

              I rolled toward him, swinging my legs up
       towards his head. My nightgown rode up above my
       knees. I gripped his tiny penis in my right hand,
       then slid my lips over the top. It was salty, but not
       bad tasting, and now it jerked and quivered in my
       mouth. I heard Tommy moan and he grabbed my leg and
       pulled it close to him. Running my tongue the length
       of his shaft, rubbing the firm white cheeks of his
       buttocks, I felt him push toward me. He wanted me. I
       felt him lift the hem of my nightgown over my waist.
       I felt his fingers brush along my thighs, tentative-
       ly, then press forward into my light blonde bush. I
       felt my breathing quicken and as he slid two fingers
       inside me I lifted my leg and straddled his head. I
       worked his penis between my lips, rolling one way and
       then the other, wrapping it in my tongue and then
       sliding it in and out.

              He lifted his face to my vagina and licked and
       I started to come. I pushed my knees back and felt my
       lips open and swallow his tongue. He flicked it in
       and out of me surely. My breathing was heavy. I
       grinded my button on his chin. My entire body felt
       like a race about to be run, the pleasure sprinting
       from muscle to muscle. My nipples were like steel and
       rolled across Tommy's belly as if they could leave
       marks.
              I bobbed my head, faster and faster, slurping
       up the saliva with which I coated his cock. In and
       out, in and out, tighter and tighter I squeezed my
       lips. More friction, in and out, more wet softness
       surrounding his tiny penis, which I loved almost as
       much as I loved him, and then it happened. He
       screamed, a shout I felt move up me from the inside
       out, and then he started to quake. A thin cream
       landed on my tongue but I kept on licking and suck-
       ing.

              "Oh! Oh! Oh!" he shouted, in time to my
       rhythm. In and out, gliding over my soft lips, in and
       out. I lifted my pussy from his face, but he clung to
       my thigh, tightly. Again he erupted, a second serving
       of that salty cream. I wanted to continue, I never
       wanted to stop, but I heard him crying. I swallowed
       his come, licked his penis clean, then ran my tongue
       over the inside of this thigh. He clutched my leg,
       lifted his face again to my vagina, but now the vi-
       brations came from his sobbing. I disentangled myself
       from his arms, turned around and hugged him. His
       tears rained down on my neck, his right hand cupped
       my breast.

              "What's the matter," I asked.

              He never did tell me. Later, he got hard again
       and we fucked for real. It was hard to send him off
       to his own bed that night, but we both knew we'd have
       other chances. Tommy's been the best lover I've ever
       had, but then, of course, he's my brother.

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