“Don’t mind us,” Precious intoned seriously. “If you want to keep kissing her, go right ahead.”

now Chidinma’s scandalized expression was directed at Precious. But I didn’t have time to think about them any further as Maryam literally vaulted herself over the couch’s backrest and into Anna’s vacated seat. She grabbed her left breast and shoved her nipple into my mouth before seizing my head with both hands. and in a raspy voice just bursting with sexual need, she growled, “I am not going home until you spray your cum all over ME.”

“Hey, Michael?” Christy called. “Can you help me zip this up?”

It was the Saturday before Halloween, and even if kids wouldn’t be trick-or-treating tonight, the members of the Pretty-Young-Things were all dressing up for a party. There would be alcohol involved, so rather than let the girls drive themselves individually, I was going to pick them all up in my minivan and refrain from drinking myself so I could drive them all back home at the end of the night.

Christy had come over to my house already dressed in her costume: Jane from Disney’s animated Tarzan. She had a yellow dress including the structured butt-bustle, white gloves, and a purple cravat with a white collar. A safari hat and yellow parasol completed the outfit, but the dress was super tight up the back (it wasn’t designed to accommodate her bigger-than-normal bustline), and she couldn’t quite get the zipper closed.

I turned away from the mirror as Christy walked into the bathroom. She spun around and I took hold of the back of the dress, tugging it closed and hooking it together. Christy gasped a little, as the top was pretty tight, and I paused to ask, “You sure this is the right size?”

“It’s fine,” she replied with shallow breaths. “Girls are used to suffocating themselves for the sake of beauty.”

“You already know I think you’re gorgeous,Christy No need to make yourself uncomfortable to convince me.”

Staring at my reflection in the mirror, Christy smiled and rolled her eyes. “I’m not trying to impress you. I need to look good for everyone at this party.”

I shrugged. “Your funeral.” Getting a tight grip of the zipper, I managed to slide it all the way up to the top. Christy held her chest and fought to get used to the constriction, reacting as if I’d put her into a corset.




Chapter 5:

“Holy crap,Christy Precious’ll be here any minute!”

“Then shut up and let me finish!”

Suiting action to her words, Christy wasted no time getting her mouth around my rapidly-expanding erection. My jeans were around my ankles as I sat in her desk chair, one eye watching the beautiful strawberry-blonde kneeling on the floor between my legs as she bobbed her head up and down in my lap, and the other eye trained out the window and through the blinds in anticipation of Precious’s car parking in the driveway.

Cool

Cool.

Cool.

Go on.

More...

Go on.

My jeans were around my ankles as I sat in her desk chair, one eye watching the beautiful strawberry-blonde kneeling on the floor between my legs as she bobbed her head up and down in my lap, and the other eye trained out the window and through the blinds in anticipation of Precious’s car parking in the driveway.

Of course, I needn’t have worried that much. The front door was locked and Precious would never just barge in unannounced. Even if she came early, we’d have plenty of time to get my dick back into my boxer shorts and make myself presentable while Christy headed downstairs to let her best friend into the house. But there was just something so ... wrong ... about what we were doing that even the slightest percentage chance of discovery was enough to send me into paralyzing panic attacks.

I shouldn’t have this fear. I’d never before FELT this kind of fear because I’d never before had anything to HIDE. All my life, the girls had teased me and messed around with me and the worst thing anybody could catch me doing was masturbating within the safety of my big, empty house. Big deal.

But now? now I was in Christy’s room getting a fucking Mouth Gig from the literal girl-next-door I’d grown up with all my life ... and none of her so-called best friends even knew about it!!!

Yes, we were hiding our blowjobs from the Pretty-Young-Things.

I couldn’t believe we were hiding our blowjobs from the Pretty-Young-Things.

Shit, I still couldn’t believe I was even GETTING blowjobs.

And I REALLY couldn’t believe I was getting blowjobs from Christy.

I’d been getting a lot of blowjobs from Christy, actually. For someone who hadn’t even toUchechid a penis for her entire life up until a couple of weeks ago, she was certainly making up for lost time.

I’d wEmman up that Sunday morning after the Halloween party slightly hungover but with perfect memory of everything that had transpired. that’s when the guilt came in, the mental angst of letting the little girl I’d grown up with commit such a debaUchechid, depraved act making me feel lower than a horse turd. and her declaration of love at the end? What was that about?

I hadn’t been able to sleep in as I usually did on Sunday mornings, so I’d remained awake in bed for over an hour, agonizing over the previous night’s activities until I finally got up and started my morning routine. I headed downstairs and into the kitchen to start making breakfast for myself.

Mother was used to getting up before me and then either making brunch or driving us out to a restaurant. She was surprised to find me up and about before her, but she accepted my offer to make her breakfast as well. We made small talk during the meal and I doubt she had any clue what kind of mental turmoil I was in. She simply didn’t know me well enough to form a baseline for comparison. In the end, she started reading the business section of the newspaper while I returned to my room to change clothes and get ready for the day.

I’d waited until noon before walking over to Christy’s house. Her dad let me in and gave me a warm hug hello. I almost couldn’t hug him back, wracked with guilt for letting down this kind-hearted man who had been more of a parent to me than either of my biological gene-donors. How could I face him knowing I’d defiled his only child in such a degenerate manner? But Christy was super-happy to see me, and if she recognized the mental turmoil I was in, she didn’t let on. She simply turned and hopped up the stairs, leading the way into her bedroom while I followed, and closed the door behind me.

I knew Mr. Obi wouldn’t come to check on us. If any other boy had been alone in the room with Christy, you’d better believe the door would’ve had to remain open, but this was me. Michael. The son he’d never had. I’d been alone with Christy behind closed doors ever since the two of us learned how to close a door. I had his TRUST.

Lower than a horse turd was too good for me.

Nice update.

Nice one.

Michael. The son he’d never had. I’d been alone with Christy behind closed doors ever since the two of us learned how to close a door. I had his TRUST.

Lower than a horse turd was too good for me.

not that Christy cared about how I was feeling. Strike that. She very much cared, she simply didn’t have any intention of respecting how I was feeling. To that end, she parked me on her bed, climbed into my lap, tenderly held my head in her hands, and softly pressed her lips to mine.

“Christy,” I groaned, prying her face off mine. “We need to-- mmph!”

She’d cut me off with a kiss.

So I pried her off again. “I’m serious. We nee-- mmph!”

Again, she cut me off.

So I pried her off again. “Christy, seriously. Last night ... oh holy crap ... Mmph!”

I’d been wearing comfortable Adidas track pants, nothing fancy, with a super-stretchy waistband. So it had been easy for Christy’s hand to slip down and grab hold of my cock, which she started squeezing and stroking while she once again sealed her mouth on top of mine.

The next thing I knew, I was flat on my back across her bed while Christy and I made out with a fury. Every time I tried to break the kiss, her hand tightened a little more around my rapidly-elongating shaft. Every time I tried to say something, she kissed me a little harder and what little mental processing capacity I had available for verbal communication got reassigned to sexual stimulation.

Perhaps two minutes later, Christy finally broke for air, slid down the bed, and pulled my track pants and underwear with her. “Keep it down,” she hissed. “Unless you want my dad to come find us with your dick in my mouth.”

I kept quiet. My dick was already in her mouth.

Five minutes later, I sat up against Christy’s headboard, breathing hard while she snuggled up against my right side. Her hand was beneath my shirt as she rubbed my chest, a silly smile on her face as she enjoyed having a belly full of my cum.

“Mmm ... tasty...” she giggled.

But once I caught my breath, Ilooked down at her and breathed in deeply, all the guilt and mental anguish returning to my beleaguered (but no longer distracted) brain. “We need to talk.”

“I’m done talking to you about this,” she said wearily, with a look that suggested she’d rather do anything than have another ‘talk’. “I really do love you, but I hate going in circles about the same fucking thing. I’m not your little sister! Bleep, I’m a month older than you! Get this in your head: We’re not related! I understand that we grew up together, and that you have a mental conflict about sexualizing me. But I really don’t think you’d have this problem if I was 5’10” with Sam’s boobs. When I complain about you not fantasizing about me because I’m a little shorty compared to everyone else, there’s more than a kernel of truth there.”

I breathed in deeply. “It’s not that you’re a shorty, although I’ll grant that if you were 5’10” I might be a little less protective of you. I just ... I can’t...” I trailed off.

Cool.

I breathed in deeply. “It’s not that you’re a shorty, although I’ll grant that if you were 5’10” I might be a little less protective of you. I just ... I can’t...” I trailed off.

“Come ON, Michael.” Christy shook free of my arm, sat up straight, and pivoted around to face me. “I literally have your sperm soaking into my stomach right now. What’s it gonna take for you to see me as a woman and not some little girl who needs your protection?”

“I DO see you as a woman! You think I don’t know you’re freaking hot and uber sexy?”

She crossed her legs into a lotus position and grinned at me. “You think I’m ‘uber sexy’?”

My heart broke. “I’ve thought you were uber sexy since we were twelve. Back then, I was your little brother. But I had such a crush on my big sister.”

Christy frowned. “You did?”

I nodded. “But I was the little dweeb next door who kept wanting to tag along wherever you went. You got sick of it and asked your dad once if he could make me stop coming over.”

“I did NOT.”

I nodded. “One of the most traumatizing moments of my life.”

Waving her hand, Christy said dismissively, “I’m pretty sure I was just overreacting to something. I never would’ve actually wanted you to stop coming over. You were my Michael.”

“Perhaps.” I shrugged. “The point is: when everybody else started wondering who had the biggest boobs in junior high: Uchechi or Precious, I didn’t even care. All I wanted back then was you.”

“And now you get to have me. Well, not exactly have me,” she clarified quickly. “I do love you, Michael, but I’m not breaking up the Pretty-Young-Things for us. I’ve always enjoyed the teasing and flirting and messing around, but we’re not gonna start dating. I couldn’t take you away from the other girls.

But I’m getting sidetracked. What I don’t understand is: If you’ve been crushing on me since we were twelve, why the hell have you kept me at arm’s length all this time?”

“I’m ... I’m...” I started twice, thinking that if I just started talking the words would come out on their own. But they didn’t, and I rubbed my forehead while shaking my head. “I don’t know exactly. I know the reason I’ve told myself for all these years, but right now I’m starting to think I’ve just been lying to myself to cover up the pain.”

“What are you talking about?”

I shrugged. “I couldn’t have you back then. You were all I thought about, and not even in a sexual way. Even today I can’t quite put my finger on it. You were best friends with Precious and you hung out with a bunch of cute tween girls. I was best friends with Chidinma and we played sports and card games like Magic.

Our two social circles did not intersect in the slightest, but every day I got to come home and hang out with you, and spending those few hours with you between the end of school and dinnertime was always the highlight of my day.”

Nice update.

Our two social circles did not intersect in the slightest, but every day I got to come home and hang out with you, and spending those few hours with you between the end of school and dinnertime was always the highlight of my day.”

Christy glanced around her room, a smile on her face as she reminisced about those days. “Yeah, we had fun back then.”

“You’d been my playmate since we were little. Building pillow forts out of the couch cushions,” I said with a small chuckle.

“Playing make-believe with our LEGOs,” she giggled. “Your pirates always wanted to attack my princess castles for some reason.”

“Just running around the backyard with nothing but our imaginations.”

“Teaching you to bake chocolate chip cookies.” Christy shook her head. “You never did catch on very well.”

“I always wanted to follow the measurements on the box precisely.”

“When a true baker knows how to tweak things a little to make it just right.”

I rolled my eyes and waved my hand. “There was nothing remotely hormonal or sexual about it, but I was in love with you back then. I wanted to spend every waking moment possible with you. I dreamed we’d fall in love and get married one day after we both grew up, the classic girl-next-door romance from the movies, you know? But then in ... eighth grade ... I think? You started crushing on Taylor Guazelli.”

“Who?”

“You seriously don’t remember Taylor Guazelli?”

I shook my head. “You didn’t care whether or not I was around – I was the invisible brother at that point. You whined and complained to Precious and your other little girlfriends about how he walked past you in the hallway and didn’t even look at you. You thought you were gonna die.

"You described in great detail how he was such a hunk, defining qualities that did not resemble me in the slightest. and I convinced myself then and there that I would never get to be with you. Precious even said one time that I was getting pretty cute, but you dismissed her comment immediately saying that -I- was like a brother to you.”

Christy frowned and gave me a strange look. I had paused, so she led me with a somewhat impatient, “And then what?”

I wasn’t a hundred percent sure myself, but I thought back to the way I’d felt back then, thought really HARD and tried to will myself to bring such old memories back into clarity.

I don’t know if I succeeded or if I was just drawing new conclusions from old data, but after a few more seconds of trying to make the puzzle fit in my brain, I said, “I think ... I think ... I think that’s when I decided I could never consider you as a potential partner because you were like a sister to me.

Rather than let myself be hurt by rejection, I just ... categorized you as out of bounds. It was easier to believe than continue to hope you’d eventually see me as man but be perpetually disappointed.”

Cool.

Rather than let myself be hurt by rejection, I just ... categorized you as out of bounds. It was easier to believe than continue to hope you’d eventually see me as man but be perpetually disappointed.”

Christy frowned. “Umm ... okay...” She furrowed her eyebrows and tried to process that.

“You know, we might be able to ask Chidinma. I’ve told her a few times about various crushes I had back then. She might remember some of this part, or at least verify how obsessed I was with you back then.”

“I just might do that.” Christy popped her eyebrows. “So if I have this right, you put a mental block around me, convincing yourself that I would only ever be your sister, and that’S why you’ve never been able to fantasize about me or otherwise get ... well ... intimate?”

“I think so?” I said uncertainly. “In a way, the origin of the mental block doesn’t even really matter. It’s there. and even now, it hasn’t gone away. Like you said: you’ve got my sperm soaking into your stomach right now. We’re not related and clearly I’m not the one molesting you or anything like that, and yet I can’t help but feel this guilt inside like I’m an incestuous bastard for letting you.”

“Uggghhh,” Christy groaned, burying her face in her hands. “You are not an incestuous bastard. We aren’t even fucking related!”

“I know, I know.”

“So how do we get you over this mental block? Because I REALLY don’t want to keep having these conversations every time Iwant to do something ‘uber sexy’ with you.”

“I don’t know.”

Christy took a deep breath, let out a long exhalation, and then hopped off her bed. “Okay fine. C’mon. Let’s go.”

“Go where?”

“Back to your house. I’ll tell my dad we’re going out but will be back in time for dinner.”

“Um, okay ... But we’re actually going over to my house?”

“Yep.”

“To do what?”

“Well I’ll tell you what we’re not gonna do: We’re not gonna keep talking about this!”

“WHY are we still talking about this?!?” Christy screamed at the ceiling, not quite loud enough for her dad to hear next door, but pretty loud. “I want to. You want to. Why is that not good enough?!?”

I’m getting ahead of myself again.

Mother was still home when Christy and I walked in. Christy greeted her politely, Mother asked all the expected questions about how things were going, and after completing the required amount of small talk, finally asked what the two of us were up to. Christy smiled and announced that we were here to bake chocolate chip cookies, which was news to me. But I just smiled and nodded silently until Mother said she was going out and said, “Have fun you two!”

To my utter and complete surprise, Christy and I actually made chocolate chip cookies. She knew her way around my kitchen pretty well after all the Friday night dinners we had with the Pretty-Young-Things. and the longer we spent baking, the more I forgot about all the angst and guilt over my incestuous bastard behavior.

Interesting update.

Ride on.

Go on.

Go on please.

You stories are never complete